Airport 2008

Posted on April 28, 2008 by Robyn

I had a 9am flight (a business trip!), and I had booked a taxi for 7.45 which, according to the taxi driver, was more time than I really needed. Except when the taxi got to Hillsborough, suddenly the traffic got slow and dense. He tried another side street, and then discovered there’d been a crash on the Mangere Bridge, but in the city-bound lane, which didn’t seem like it would hold up traffic going away from the airport.

I was a bit worried I might be late and miss my flight, or at least my check-in time, but the driver assured me he’d get me there on time.

After negotiating through the back streets of Onehunga, which were also chocker with traffic, we finally got on to the motorway. The accident had just been cleared and the city-bound lanes were slowly starting to move again. There was no logical reason for the airport-bound lanes to be slow. I can only conclude that it was a result of lookie-loos.

And true to his word, the driver got me to the airport in time for my flight.

But while I was ready to board my plane, it wasn’t ready for me. Thick fog had closed Auckland Airport to morning flights. The check-in area was full of people, laden with bags, wondering what they were going to do.

Ah, the fog. I’d noticed Mount Eden had been rendered invisible by it yesterday, and I hoped it wouldn’t cause trouble today. Cos everyone knows that delayed or cancelled flights cause trouble. People get angry and yell and throw stuff, right?

Well, here’s the great thing – everyone was cool about it. The Air New Zealand staff kept everyone informed, handed out snacks and water. Passengers figured out where they were supposed to go. I saw no one conforming to the stereotype of the angry, yelling passenger.

Some of the earlier flights had been canceled, but my lazy-ass 9am flight wasn’t and eventually it was called for boarding. I arrived in Wellington a couple of hours later than planned, but still where I needed to be.

Boundaries

Posted on April 6, 2008 by Robyn

Interesting things have been happening in the places where I grew up. First there was a P lab found in the old Matangi dairy factory, and now there’s just been a huge explosion at a cold-storage facility just across the road from Tamahere Model Country School (um, yeah, that’s its name, but it’s really just an ordinary state primary school) – one of my old schools.

Now, Tamahere is very close to Hamilton City. It’s about a 10-minute car ride from Tamahere School to the Hamilton suburb of Hillcrest, and you’d be in the city centre in little over 15 minutes.

But Tamahere is not in Hamilton City. It’s in Waikato District. It’s rural. Like this:

And yet the Herald is currently reporting that the cold-storage facility is located in “suburban Tamahere on the southeast outskirts of the city.”

Suburban! City! If only! My childhood would have been approximately 70% less miserable if I had gone to school in a city suburb and not the bloody country (or so I’d like to think…)

This is what most of Tamahere looks like – not suburban, rural:

(Photo from Judemay on Flickr)

But, then, Tamahere never felt like a rural settlement. It wasn’t like neighbouring Matangi or Tauwhare where there was a little village or definite centre. No, Tamahere was more like a rural suburb of Hamilton, where rich Hamiltonians lived when they wanted room for their ponies. So perhaps in getting it wrong, the Herald actually got it right.

—

Digging around on Flickr has revealed some amazing photos taken by people near the explosion and also from Hamilton.

Tamahere Fire, as seen from Hillcrest Park, by Easegill

Shamrocks and Shenanigans

Posted on March 17, 2008 by Robyn

It was St Patrick’s day, so I was on the look out for merriment. But I was most surprised when, on K Road, I spied what appeared to be a man wearing a Santa suit, complete with a long white beard. But he smelt like paint (had he been painting toys?) and he was staggering along the footpath. I looked again.

It turned out to be a guy wearing a baggy red tracksuit. The long white beard was created by him holding up a white T-shirt over his mouth and nose to help hide the bag he was inhaling solvents from (green paint, perhaps?).

Over at the over side of the colour wheel, there were plenty of people dressed in green and staggering down the footpath, participating in various kinds of St Patrick’s Day festivities.

I saw some guys, who sounded American, wearing those green plastic hats, which I associate more with American Irish (the madness of Boston) than Irish Irish.

The Belgian bar down Vulcan Lane seemed to be doing a roaring trade. Well, you know, beer, mashed potatties – who cares what country it’s from?

At work, there were scones with green whipped cream. They seemed to be quite popular, but the green was too much like that green food mould to stir my Irish blood.

Hey, how do Irish celebrate St Patrick’s Day? Not by dying everything they eat green, I’ll bet.

Here’s a cookie for ye.

Things I did on the weekend

Posted on February 18, 2008 by Robyn

ITEM: I went to the Cross Street Carnival on Saturday. The street was closed off and filled up with Craftwerk regulars, including Annette of Nut & Bee, and City the NZ Cupcake Queen. Even the local brothel was part of it. The K Road area has been in need of a carnival, but with K Road itself being a major city road and having the motorway so close and steep streets either side, it’s been lacking a good location for such an event. Cross Street is ideal. I hope it becomes an annual event.

ITEM: So, you know that Flight of the Conchords television programme? Well, I’d never got around to watching it when it was on TV. I felt like the only person in the country who didn’t watch it. I mean, I think even my mum knew what “It’s business time” meant. So now that it was finally out on DVD I bought it and watched it all over two days. It was good, and it didn’t wear thin. Go Kiwi, LOTR, etc.

ITEM: On Sunday I got the ferry over to Devonport, forgetting it was the weekend of the food and wine festival. They make an effort with the admission price to discourage people from getting pissed, but there was still a bit of staggering going on down Victoria Road. And then the added bonus of having Hello Sailor’s live performance in the park echoing around the streets. The New World car park took on a whole different feeling with slices of “Blue Lady” drifting around it.

ITEM: You know what’s cool and new? It’s the Aucklandista blog. It’s a sister site of the Wellingtonista, founded by Auckland-lover Jo Hubris, and hasa growing list of contributors. It’s all about the various aspects of what makes Auckland rather awesome. It’s early days, but it’s slowly finding its own Aucklandic take on things.

ITEM: Ok, let’s have a look at some photos from the Cross Street Carnival. (See how even the Mercury Lane car park looks festive?)

Humidity, humility, humanity

Posted on January 22, 2008 by Robyn

In recent days people have been coming out with their stories about their connections or experiences with Sir Edmund Hillary – people who went to school with him or climbed with him or built a school in Nepal with him or saw him at the rugby and got him to autograph a $5 note. Well, the only connection I have – and it’s both significant and insignificant – is that my middle name is Hilary. So there.

Which leads me to Parnell. After work yesterday I got the Link bus to Parnell, which conveniently stopped right outside the Cathedral of the Holy Trinity where Sir Edmund’s body was lying in state.

I wasn’t necessarily planning on going inside, but even though I wouldn’t be visiting for religious reason, I was interested in the event as a socially and culturally significant one as a New Zealander. Though, when I initially saw the line of people snaking all the way down St Stephen’s Ave and then around the corner and down Brighton Road, I considered just going home.

But then I thought about it. I’d put up with hot sun and crowds and having sweaty man-backs in my face at the Big Day Out, so how could I not be up to doing something that many senior citizens – including ones with walking sticks – were doing? And besides, the line was moving reasonably fast. All excuses gone, I joined the queue.

Now, it was a hot, extremely humid summer evening, with very light rain from time to time. The heat was so intense that I began to wonder if perhaps I ought to have a plastic bottle of water with me in case I dehydrated so much that I failed to meet the eight-glasses-of-water-a-day limit. Because we all know what terrible, terrible things happen then.

But then, as if by magic, a lady appeared handing out bottles of water – organic water, even. (No, I don’t get how either.) The label on the bottle suggested it was endorsed by Sir Peter Blake, giving a nice dearly departed knights theme.

It took me about 40 minutes to make it into the cathedral. When I got inside I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Well, actually, I had earlier imagined something like what happened when Eva Peron died. You know, people wailing and fainting, tearing their clothes, queuing for days to see the coffin, taking their babies and their ill to be blessed.

But, well, it wasn’t like that. It was all rather Anglican. Silent and reverential. The coffin was surrounded by four naval seamen guarding it. Standing so still they looked like strange androids, waiting to be summoned into action at the cue of a Doctor Who villain.

I took some photos, but I was really conscious of actually experiencing the moment and not just viewing it all through my camera’s LED screen. I don’t I think I saw the man ahead of me take his camera away once – but maybe that’s how he does things.

When I was standing right in front of the coffin I stopped and thought and felt sadness. Then I had this weird sensation that, oh no, I was holding up the line and I should go, oh, sorry.

I signed the guestbook, bid my namesake farewell, and went out into the hot January night.

Big Day Out 2008

Posted on January 19, 2008 by Robyn

Every year the Big Day Out comes around and I think, “Ugh, I’m too old to go this year,” either because I don’t know enough of the music or I think I haven’t got the stamina for it. But then it comes and if if I don’t go, I always regret it.

So this year I just went ahead and bought a ticket as soon as they came on sale, without even knowing (or caring?) who was going to be playing this year.

The weird thing about BDO this year was that I didn’t seem to know many people who were going so I just kinda turned up to Mt Smart Stadium without a posse. Even my boyfriend, the slender gentleman Mr Simon Le Bones, had ditched me (somewhere between Real Groovy and Mt Smart Stadium. I think he’s got work as a roadie for Arcade Fire. Arsehole.).

I caught the very last fading chords of the Checks’ set, dammit, and then Liam Finn started playing on the adjacent stage. I wasn’t ready for a reasonably popular singer with a largish crowd, so I went over to the obscure stage, uh, I mean, the Local Produce stage and saw a bit of The Lookie Loos. You know how some bands can be really competent musicians but not have any of that magical spark that makes a great band? Yeah, they were like that.

I was thinking back to the first Auckland Big Day Out, in 1994. Back then, you couldn’t buy bottled water, so I wonder what people drank back then. I can’t remember. Did we fill an old soda bottle with water? Bring along an old school drink bottle? Did we survive on Diet Coke and those weird “smart drinks” that was en vogue at the time? How did we survive? How did we not dehydrate and wither and crack into a fine powder and be scattered by the wind over the general Penrose area?

Anyway, back over on the Essential/Green stages area, I got the end of Tiki Taane’s set and stuck around for about half of Kate Nash’s. See, there were rumours that the Cribs were going to be playing, but that never happened. But Kate is going out with Ryan Cribs, so that little connection was what kept me there. But I was getting tired in the hot sun, so I went over to the bad old stadium and sat down for a bit.

The Bleeders (yawn) were finishing up on the Orange stage, and then Spoon played after them. In Australia Spoon will play on the smaller Green stage, and that’s where they should have played in Auckland. They are not a stadium band.

Around the place, I noticed quite a few guys with New Zealand-themed tattoos. The coastline of New Zealand was quite a popular one, as was a variant of the Southern Cross stars from the New Zealand flag. This is a simple and effective way of saying that you went on your OE and got really homesick.

I wandered back up to Green/Essential and caught the end of the Hilltop Hoods, an Australian hip hop group who appear to be hugely popular over there. They have violins and hip hop beats, which is all a bit ’80s novelty act, if you arks me.

Billy Bragg took to the Essential stage. He said he’d left his backing music behind, so it was just him and his guitar, but that was OK with me. He played a number of his old hits (“Greetings To The New Brunette”!) his strong political ones and a Woody Guthrie song (and a free lesson about songwriting). The low point was a reworking of “One Love” to be all about wiping debt of developing nations. It’s a good message, but the song came across like something you’d sing in primary school. The audience seemed to be into it, bloody lefties. He ended with “A New England”, which is one of my favourite songs of all time, and included the extra Kirsty MacColl verse. Nice one.

Next was The Nightwatchman, which is the solo project of Tom Morello of Rage Against The Machine. I have this feeling that the inclusion of The Nightwatchman was a proviso of RATM’s appearance, because I can’t imagine that it would have been booked otherwise. It was just him playing crappy songs on an acoustic guitar. Through his work in Rage he’s such an influential guitarist, but this didn’t show any of that. The fanboy audience seemed to like it, though. I walked out after a couple of songs.

I saw a bit of Pluto back in the main stadium. I still don’t get Pluto. They seem to make music for themselves. Hm.

And back up the top, I caught the end of SJD. I don’t get SJD either. I know a few people who love SJD, but it also feels like music written for himself rather than for the listener. Alienation ensues.

Then Battles were playing. I started out near the front of the stage, but then I realised that I couldn’t see anything on the stage, I was surrounded by sweaty topless guys, and this girl was smoking in my face. So I moved over to the grassy area by the side of the stage and enjoyed things sitting down. It’s not music you can dance to, so it seemed far better to sit down and just enjoy the wiry sonic journey rather than trying to make it all fit some rock festival template.

A got a little bit of Paul Kelly, but was feeling hungry so I got a a felafel and sat down in the main stadium, where Shihad were playing. Wow, Shihad playing at the Big Day Out. How unusual!

While I was sitting there, I saw a hilarious thing. Two dudes, both wearing different t-shirts with “GUNT” on each of them, saw each other and the t-shirt he was wearing. They got excited and did a manly hug, before wandering off into the crowd, perhaps never to meet again.

Anyway, my time for liking Shihad was about 10 years ago, but I don’t like to think about those times too much. In fact, the whole Shihad set just got me really bummed out. Like, I’d never paid much attention to “Home Again”, other than thinking of it as being their “Wahey! It’s great to be back in New Zealand”, but I suddenly realised that it was one of those songs of the great rock theme where the singer is on the road and misses his sweetie back home. And I then I experienced that feeling – I’d only previously heard other people describe this – of being surrounded by thousands of people but feeling totally alone. Shit!

Something had to be done, and fast, so I quickly went up to the Green stage in time for the Phoenix Foundation. They were just what I needed. The crowd was small, but loving and when the band played “Nest Egg” and the whole crowd swayed along. And then when the “It’s a lie!” bit came, everyone shouted it out. Yeah, it’s a lie that you gotta be the big man.

Again I went back to the main stadium and saw about half of Bjork. Actually, I only heard it, because my view was obscured by a promo tent. I’m not really a Bjork fan, but an old flatmate of my used to play “Debut” all the time, so I ended up knowing a lot of the songs she played. At one point green lasers shot out of the stage, and then a confetti bomb went off, showering everywhere with little bits of paper.

Then it was time for the antithesis of Bjork – Rage Against The Machine. I had (have?) their first album (on tape!). I know it well, and it was just fun to sit back and revel in all the fire and anger. Bullet in your heeeeeead! Bullet in your heeeeeeeeead! Yeah. But I realised after a while that RATM have no shadows and light. It’s all rage, all the time. And after a while it gets a bit tiresome and their songs all start to feel the same.

I thought about going up to see the Clean, but I realised that I really really wanted to hear Rage play “Killing In The Name”, so I stuck around for that, the final song of their encore. It was rool awesome. It’s just so well structured and it builds to the massive climax where virtually everyone’s jumping around, middle finger in the air, yelling out, “Fuck you! I won’t do what you tell me!” You can look for irony and say things about conformity, but sometimes it’s just fun to yell along to angry political songs and party like it’s 1993.

It’s kind of strange, though, how the two big headline bands were big in the ’90s. In fact, they both played at BDOs in the ’90s. Where are the big new bands of today?

And keeping with that theme, stars of Big Day Out 1995, the reformed Supergroove, were playing the last timeslot of the night up on the Green stage. I was never a Supergroove fan cos they were my age – they just seemed liked a bunch of dorky guys in a band, not cool rock dudes. I saw a couple of their songs, but the thought of going home appealed much more.

It’s strange. Like, I had a good time, but it was just really bittersweet this year – almost enough to make be not want to go next year. Oh, but I probably will. (It’s always better as a memory than as an experience.)

More of my BDO photos can be found over at Flickr.

Present, presents

Posted on December 27, 2007 by Robyn

Christmas this year feels like it almost passed me by unscathed. Somehow I managed to avoid most of the worst aspects of the festive season.

Earlier in the month I was in Farmers and they were attempting to set a festive mood by playing early-’90s-style R&B versions of Christmas songs. It didn’t liven my spirit and send me merrily a-skippin’ to the till. It just annoyed me – really annoyed me – so I left.

You know all those Christmas pop songs that no one likes but everyone plays every Christmas, like the musical abominations that are “Snoopy’s Christmas” and “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer”? Well, I managed to avoid hearing any of those in their entirety.

I’m not sure quite how I managed that, but I think it might have had something to do with not actually having much Christmas shopping to do. Buying stuff online or at other times during the year is a good way of avoiding Christmas craziness. (Not that you’ll do it, but I’m just sayin’.)

But for the times I did venture into shops, I found one really good way to stay sane: listening to good music on my iPod in the shop. It had the added bonus of making shop assistants leave me alone – it’s just that much harder to ask me if I need help with anything or if I’m just happy browsing. But it did mean that they eyed me suspiciously, as if perhaps I was actually listening to the audio book “U Can Steal It! Shoplifting in seven easy steps!”

As for Christmas Day itself, well, it was boring, but that’s how it always is. If most of the day was grey, there was a bright moment of gold when Christmas lunch was served. We went for slow-baked salmon this year, which quite frankly kicks the arse of anything ham or turkey may have to offer.

And I will make this observation: comedy presents are fine, but when you get one real present and the rest are comedy ones, it does get a little depressing when you realise that all those nicely wrapped presents are $2 Shop lolz. Yeah, I guess if you stop believing in Santa, he stops believing in you.

But, you know, no matter what goes on on Christmas Day, it’s never a bad day. I have my spunky new camera, and generally stuff is rather good.

Robyn Gallagher

Adventures in words and web

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