Maps. And Volcanoes

I've always been a bit in love with maps.  As a child I used to spend holidays away with my grandparents on their yacht (no, we're not that posh, it was a cramped sailing yacht with really basic facilities) and I remember spending hours looking at the charts with my grandfather.  I still credit him with instilling a near infallible sense of direction in me.  I could navigate with a chart by the age of 8, yet somehow the maps and charts part of the Girl Guide syllabus prevented me getting my silver award at 12, but that was because our leader couldn't assess it.  But I digress.

Last week I took a night off from studying to go to a talk by Mike Parker, who used to present Radio 4's On the Map (which I wish they would repeat).  The topic was national identity and mapping, which obviously links into the independence debate which is raging here at the moment.  It was a really entertaining talk and as a result I have bought Mike's book, Map Addict: a tale of obsession, fudge and the Ordnance Survey.  He even used a few of my favourite maps.  If he's speaking near you, I recommend him, although I suspect the subject matter was tailored to a Scottish audience.

Inevitably it got me thinking about my favourite maps and I have finally decided what to do with the vast bare wall of my hall.  Maps.  First up was one I have been looking for for ages.  As it happened I was telling my friend Morag (another Scottish-Kiwi) about it as we waited for Mike's talk and googled it on my phone.  There it was at the National Library of Australia - I'd been looking for it in NZ libraries and archives.  I now have a poster sized one ready to go on my wall.  It's German geologist Ferdinand von Hochstetter's map of the volcanoes of the Auckland Isthmus.   Drawn in 1859, the map shows the extent of all the cones, craters and lava flows of the Auckland field before they were quarried and built on.

It's a fairly frightening thought that almost a million people now live in the area covered by the map (the city now extends further to the north and west, away from the volcanic field.  That's the city centre in the middle and I grew up near the three crater lakes/basins on the northern shore of the northern of the two harbours.

The Auckland Volcanic Field consists of at least 50 volcanoes, either as cones or craters, and it's monogenetic, meaning each volcano usually erupts once (they did find a second eruption site in the Panmure basin, which is the large basin to the right of the centre of the map, a few years ago).    The most recent eruption was only 600 or so year ago and created Rangitoto the large island at the top of the map.  It was apparently bigger than all the previous eruptions put together.

The Auckland volcanic field is active, just dormant.

Oh and thumbs down to the University of Edinburgh, for closing the accessible entrance to the building Mike's lecture was held in.

More Travelling

Kudos to CCS Disability Action, who operate New Zealand's disabled parking permit system.  They have a very easy process to apply for a New Zealand permit online and have the permit sent to your accommodation (or in my case, brother) to await your arrival.  All they need is a scanned copy of whatever the local equivalent is where you live - in my case the "blue badge".

A pity the UK can't reciprocate with this.

OTOH, it is possible to use UK (and other EU) permits throughout the EU and usually airport parking will let you use the disabled space, but take your blue badge with you on holiday - they usually ask you to let the attendant know as you are leaving.

Travel plans

The last couple of weeks I have been busy with 2011's travel plans.

In March, I'm heading to Ireland for three days, my first visit in almost 2 years. This is unusual - I was there annually in 2002, 2003 and 2004, then in 2005, 2006, 2007 and 2008 at least twice a year. The multiple trips to New Zealand meant there was no trip last year and I promised myself a trip when I finally sold a house I owned in England (even though I made no money on the house at all!).

I'll be staying in Dublin, for the first time in 3 years and in the city centre for the first time in over 8 years. Usually I have stayed with my friend J, who used to live on the western outskirts of Dublin and now lives in Carlow, about an hour south-west of Dublin. I've been to Athlone twice and twice stayed on the outskirts of Dublin, but it was unusual for me to venture into the city centre.

This time, I'm staying just off O'Connell Street and J will join me for at least Saturday, possibly also Friday night. I'm meeting another friend for dinner on the Thursday. During the days I'll get the chance to reacquaint myself with a city I first visited almost 20 years ago.

In April, I'll be heading, with L, back to New Zealand for another longish trip. We're flying Emirates again, as I did on both trips last year. The value of frequent flyer schemes shows - I have so many points now it wasn't worth considering a different airline. We'll have lounge access in Dubai on the way out and in all the airports on the way back. We'll also have enough points for an upgrade on the final leg, which will get us a free car & driver in Glasgow to get us home.

My experiences of Emirates and Dubai have mostly been good, although some staff seem to struggle to balance the combination of a passenger requiring special assistance *and* a small child. I've had a couple of experiences where the wheelchair was moving so fast, L was struggling to keep up, but they've slowed down when I ask.

On my return trip last year, however, there was a bit of a SNAFU which meant they had no way to get me on the plane at Dubai, as it was at a remote gate (no air-bridge). Emirates were very good and held the plane (for 90 minutes!) until it was sorted out but it was all very stressful. I complained and they apologised and compensated me. I'm happy to fly with them again but their apology included a very useful explanation of what had happened and how to avoid it again.

There are three classes of wheel chair assistant available (and I believe all major airlines use these codes - certainly the same options were available when I booked my Aer Lingus flights to Dublin).

• WCHR - this is for people who cannot manage long distances, but can manage stairs. It'll get you to the gate but not up or down stairs at the gate or plane. 
• WCHS - this also gets you assistance with the stairs - and if you need it a special lift (elevator) to get you onto the plane
• WCHC - this means you get assistance (carried or a special narrow wheelchair) to get to your actual seat.  

In my case, the code had been changed from WCHS to WCHR when I changed my flights in Auckland, but because there was a WCHC passenger on my flight from Auckland to Dubai there had been no problem until then.  

Of course I probably need a different one.  I am usually OK, especially on departure, to walk to the gate myself - and I enjoy having a look at the shops or getting a drink or something to eat, rather than being parked in a crowded pen somewhere.  A bit of gentle exercise also staves off stiffness which is an inevitable consequence of sitting for long periods.  

This is especially the case when I have L with me - the last thing he needs before a 24 hour flight is 2 hours sitting somewhere boring!  I can do this if there is an air bridge to get onto the plane, but if I need a lift, I have to get wheelchair assistance the whole way.  

Friday Club

I am very lucky to have been involved with two wonderful, strong, inspiring groups of women through my life. - my own group of close women friends was blogged about last year by my friend Lissie.

Many years ago, though, another group of women with similar backgrounds, one of whom was my mother, came together at a Parents' Centre coffee morning in New Zealand. All had babies under two, four girls and a boy. All but one went on to have another child, a year or so later - this time three boys and a girl. So in all we were five families. Well, there was a sixth, with an older boy and one the same age as me, and a few other families we spent time with, but as the years went on the core formed around five families.

Each Friday afternoon, these five Mums would meet for a few drinks, with us kids being sent off to play with strict instructions not to be seen *or* heard "unless there is blood" (especially as we got older). Massive quantities of chippies (crisps) would be ground into the carpet, accompanied by plenty of lego. Lifetime friendships were formed. In many ways the other "kids" (for we are still kids, although we're aged between 33 and 36!) are closer than cousins, especially for those of us without actual cousins.

We shared many good and bad times down the years, but big birthdays were always a big event, both the Mums' 40ths, 50ths, and latterly 60ths and the 21sts of us kids. Parties were held and the jokes became more and more elaborate. My brother found this today, which must day from a 50th birthday I think around 15 years ago now. Somehow, it captures Friday Club in it's glory days.



When my mother died, Friday Club gathered round and were a huge source of strength to my brother and I. Everyone came round at some point to help us clear houses, deal with practicalities. We were invited to dinner by kids and Mums alike. After the funeral a core bunch of us gathered to remember happier times and many laughs (and glasses of wine) were had.

This is most of the kids (by Friday Club tradition, one of us is inevitably missing - he turned up 5 minutes after the pic was taken) and *our* kids (again, one - our first girl - is missing, at just over a week old, she was asleep), taken while I was in NZ after my grandmother died.



And here we are, at least most of us, back when it all started - I think this must be December 1977.

"My wife's people call it Polyfilla"

The title to this is a quote from Notes from a Big Country (aka I'm a Strange Here Myself, Bill Bryson's collection of articles about his return to the USA after 20 years living in Britain. He's relating how he lacks the vocabulary for a whole range of adult concepts, in this case DIY, having left the US at the age of 19. For my US readers, he wanted spackle.

I've just returned from an unexpected trip back to New Zealand, my Grandmother died three weeks ago, after a very brief acute illness and a longer battle with Alzheimers. She was almost 80, lived in her own home (with significant support) until late March and was still walking the dog at the start of the year.

My Grandma:



Like Bryson, I've spent my entire adult life outside NZ and what reminded me of his quote was trying to explain that I needed "bin tags" for the . The funny thing is, this is not a term I use in the UK - we have free rubbish collection here, but one I have picked up from Irish friends. Last time I lived in NZ, you had to buy stickers to put on your rubbish bags, so they would be collected - I couldn't remember what they were though. Now, you pay for a wheelie bin collection or you pay for pre-paid bags - it costs NZ$1.50 (approx UK£0.75, US$1) for a 60 litre bin bag, which it turns out was what I wanted. 35 years old and I can't figure out how to deal with the rubbish. I used 13 bags. And filled about 6 non-prepaid bags of clothes which will go to a charity shop.

It's strange being a stranger in your own country - especially since I am still a foreigner here, by and large. My accent gives me away and no matter how accustomed I am to negotiating life, every now and then something happens which reminds me I am, in many ways, not of this place. Most recently, realising that, on a hot sunny day at a park, we were the only ones wearing hats (and probably also the only ones with sunscreen on!). That's the kiwi coming out.

In NZ, it's even stranger. As I drive around Auckland (or even further field, I mostly do it as a local. I do not need a map. I know the streets, mostly (although every now and then I was surprised by a change - especially to the motorway network). I can slip back into understanding television peppered with Maori words - even in the first week of our stay, when it was Maori language week and I had to explain some of the kids TV shows to L. But to NZers, I am a tourist. My accent no longer sounds local to them and I struggle with the money - the coinage has been reissued recently and the coins, although they look the same, are much smaller. I go to the top of the Sky Tower - a building which still seems a strange addition to the skyline to me and can rattle off the names of the various volcanic cones and islands to L, but there are whole suburbs, just a few kilometres north of my childhood home, which are nameless to me. And in Glenfield Mall - one of my teenage haunts, at least before I had access to a car, I get completely disorientated. It's now 4 times it's old size and I can never get a point of reference relating to the old layout. Having the kids play area next to Dunkin' Donuts is a good plan though :D

A pic, looking north towards where I used to live, from the Sky Tower: