Today I was told by one of the gorgeous spies that still supply me with regular info from North Otago that my favourite bar in Oamaru, the amazing H2O has finally closed its doors. While controversial for its location and architecture (it made the Victorians itchy to get out their pitchforks) it was nevertheless a well designed modernist building with a hint of Mies van der Rohe at the most amazing spot overlooking Friendly Bay. First managed by the lovely Diane and that Genius in the kitchen, David Taylor, this was the perfect combination between gorgeous bar with amazing views and superb cuisine. After Diane and David’s departure their ‘front of house’ maitre Jessica continued to make you as comfortable as possible, while the food continued to be inspired by David’s ideas. This was always the perfect place for an after work beer (featuring Emerson’s and Three Boys) , have civilised glass of wine or a glorious meal.

And now it’s closed and will re-open as a ‘pub’.

Bummer.

So, let’s see: You pay your 700 pounds or 1000 Euros and take the 22 hour flight to New Zealand. On the way you stop in Asian megacities (KL, Bombay, Hongkong, Seoul), hell (Los Angeles International Airport and its crimeinfested surroundings. If Homeland Security lets you out) and probably think that this is just a small price to pay before you arrive in peaceful Kiwiana. Or, if you’re lucky, you were clever enough to fly via Singapore and have a proper break in a city that, while autocratically ruled, is pretty safe and peaceful. Nevertheless, statistically you’re most likely to land in Auckland, and that’s where the trouble begins, as your choices are all equally shite:

• a) you’re doing the classic middle-class thing and rent a white, diesel-guzzling campervan for 100 euros a day ‘because you want to be free’ , drive down Highway 1 from one tourist trap to the other while leaving the rest of New Zealand to the 96% of the natives who live as far away from State Highway 1 as possible to avoid the tourists, share communal showers with the other 500 people travelling in those big white vans on campsites and enjoy the thought that you’re going to meet them all again tomorrow night on the next campsite. Most of them are probably from your home town.
• b) you hire a rental car and drive down aforementioned State Highway 1 just to stand in one traffic jam after the other behind large white campervans, driven by Europeans who think they still are behind the wheel of their Seat and stay in Motels with varying comfort levels.
• c) you decide to hitch-hike and fear for your safety.
• d) you try to do the honorable thing and take public transport, just to find out there is none, just a dozen of 20 year old black smoke spewing diesel buses.
• e) you end up in a hostel in Manukau and get robbed of all your traveller checks by the first bunch of gang-colour toting thirteen year olds you meet.
• …and finally: if you’re a German, you obviously brought your bike and cycle from Auckland to Invercargill, just to get laughed at by the other road users.

On the way you will be passing one paddock full of cows after the other, plenty of irrigation infrastructure and will never meet anybody else than waiters from Europe, jobbing in one bistro after the other, boutique owners from Auckland and the German campervan drivers who arrived with you on the same flight and will do exactly the same route that you planned.

Happy Holidays!

Today it was reported by the “News and Star” that Christopher Harvey, MSP for the Scottish National Party, described the Scottish youth as wearing ‘the ugliest clothes worn by anyone on the entire continent’. While he is certainly right, he should also note that the Scottish youth are some of the most socially deprived in the OECD, and that in deprived areas the money is probably more likely to be spend on a six-pack of lager and a new knife than a suit.

The Scotland of today is not the fairy tale Europeans want to see. This is a significantly torn nation struggling to come to grips with generations of underprivileged beneficiaries.

Their dress-sense reflects this.

Today my Google News Alarm finally sent me something truly interesting, after boring me senselessly with such ‘newsworthy’ stories like ‘Houses evacuated after Oamaru bomb threat’. I mean, honestly: who in Oamaru would have the time and leisure to blow up a service station? Especially the only one where you can get a Coke and a Marsbar at 3 am in the morning? The teenage population of Oamaru practically wouldn’t survive if for the nutrients dished out by the nice people behind that counter, and the Victorians would rather attack it with pitchforks before doing something untrad like a bomb (unless it would be a number of barrels of gunpowder, but these you can hardly hide).

No, what I mean is the brillant blog of ‘Red’ Hurring and her team of correspondents: ‘Coracle Oracle‘ is featuring a good range of photography, guest contributions from local celebrities like master craftsman Bill Blair, poems, and of course her own contributions. A long established local reporter, she dishes out the goods without having an editor breathing down her neck, which only contributes to the quality of the blog.

With other words, a worthy addition to the ‘Places you should visit’ list.

While I despise most property-improvement shows, I do have a soft sport for Kevin McCloud’s Grand Designs which is well written, entertaining, well researched and never boring. But recently I am asking myself how Kevin choses his victims: the houses seem to be getting more modernistic (apart from that ghastly project in which the Addams Family met a Glasgow housing estate) the ladies seem to be getting er, more, rubenesqe, outspoken and challenged by fashion, while the husbands have been more ithyiotic: gasping for financial breath and observing their wives burning the money and driving the project.What does that tell us about Kevin’s tastes (in houses and ladies)?