Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts

Monday, April 29, 2013

New Zealand: Waitangi Treaty Grounds

Trip Date: 04 January 2013

Hi everyone. It's become the time in my PhD where I really cannot afford to provide you with the long posts of the past. I noticed there was a lot of repetition between the blog text and the photo captions and so I am going to try and minimise redundancy by giving a brief overview of where I went, what I did, and how I got there with more detail of what I saw and learned in the Flikr photo captions. I don't really know how many people read this thing through and through, so I hope you can appreciate my changes.

So, back to my trip to New Zealand waaayy back in January...

...I left off at the end of a harrowing day of near-death experiences and kiwi encounters and by the next morning, I felt I was due some rest and relaxation. I drove in to the town of Keri Keri for some breakfast at the little Cafe Zest which had some of the best blueberry muffins I've had in a very long time and then on to Paihia, the entrance to New Zealand's famed Bay of Islands. The Bay of Islands was my main destination, ever since seeing ads for it in my local rail station in Sydney. I'd read that it is useless to visit the Bay of Islands if you don't actually go on the water, so I found myself a YHA hostel on a houseboat called, Rock the Boat, but more on that in the next post. Rock didn't leave until 5pm later that day so I had all morning and afternoon to myself.

Waitangi Flagpole
Waitangi Flagpole at the site where the Treaty of
Waitangi was signed between the British and
the Maori peoples in 1840.
The town over from Paihia is Waitangi and is famous for being the site where the British colonists and many Maori tribes came together to sign a treaty, giving the Maori recognition of their right to the land, provided the Maori with the status of British citizens, but gave the British Crown control and governance of New Zealand. Not everything was really fully agreed upon and many Maori chiefs refused to sign. Nevertheless, the treaty became a symbol for New Zealand independence, much like the Declaration of Independence in the US. The grounds include the site where the treaty was signed, where the first Governor of New Zealand had his house (a very modest one), a traditional Maori meeting house, and one of the largest canoes (waka in Maori) in the world.

When I drove up I was greeted at the entrance by some young men and women dressed in traditional Maori clothes inviting me in. It made me very skeptical at how kitchy this site was going to be - I though cheesy reenactments and a badly presented tour were in store, especially at the price of $45 to gain entrance to the Treaty Grounds, a tour, and a ticket to a cultural performance. I thought to myself, I'm only here once so I'd better see what it's about, and in the end I could not have been proven more wrong or found a better way to spend $45 in a day!

I had about half an hour to explore the Treaty Grounds on my own but then I made my way over to the Meeting House where we were greeted by the young woman who was out front. She had a very cheery demeanor as she explained the significance of the cultural performance we were about to witness. We were told that we, as visitors, were a tribe and she selected a tribal leader for us. We were then going to be tested as a tribe by the hosting tribe (the performers) to determine whether we came in peace or in war. And then the show started with the hosting tribal leader stepping out in front of us swinging a piece of wood on a string around him, making whooshing noises in the air, snarling with his tongue stuck out and his eyes bulged so you could see as much white of them as was possible. He was shortly joined by two other men in their intimidation dance and a small group of women came out on the veranda and started to chant. Finally, the host tribal chief laid down a leaf (or feather or flower?) on the ground and our chief picked it up. We were seen as friends and welcomed into the Meeting House.

Maori Cultural Performance
The Maori tribal chief beginning the welcoming ceremony to Whare
Runanga, the Meeting House. Through intimidating dance, snarls,
facial expressions, and weaponry, his goal is to see if we came in peace.
While we were instructed to treat the outside ceremony very seriously, the attitude of the show changed immediately once we were inside. We were introduced through song and dance to traditional Maori customs, stories, weapons, and history for the next 45 minutes. The music was enchanting, the performers amazingly talented, and I was in awe for the entire show, sitting there with a big smile on my face, thinking how much the rest of my family would enjoy this! The Meeting House itself was just as incredible as the performance with wooden tikis carved into panels and geometric murals painted on the walls.

After the show, the performers greeted us outside in the courtyard and those of us who have no shame were allowed to hold some of the Maori weapons for a photo op, giving our try at intimidation... Let's just say I didn't quite play the part as well as the performers!

I then joined up with a tour group and we walked the grounds, led by a colourful storyteller of a tour guide to the different sites, including the large, 117-foot long waka (canoe), traditionally carved in one piece from the felled trunk of a totara tree in a sacred ceremony in celebration of the 100th anniversary of the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi in 1940. The 3-meter wide stump of the tree used for its construction is housed at the end of the waka's canopy and is just massive! The waka itself was built as a war canoe that could carry 135 people! It actually floats and is taken out onto the bay from time to time for special celebrations.

If you ever find yourself in the Bay of Islands area, do not miss this site!!!! It is well worth the $45 and well worth an afternoon of your time!

Friday, May 25, 2012

Some Camping and a Music Festival

Trip Dates: 4-7 May 2012

I've put off writing this blog post for far too long! But I've honestly felt a little fatigued at writing every little detail that happens or every piece of information I pick up when I go somewhere. Luckily, this excursion out from Glasgow was not prompted by any want to see a historical landmark or any type of natural landscape or wildlife. The date was May 4, and that evening my friends and I found ourselves freezing outside of Inverness, Scotland, huddled around a small disposable BBQ grill in a wee snow storm while camping in a cow pasture.

A few weeks ago, my friend, Penne, turned 30 and wanted to do nothing more than celebrate it with friends from our office at a music festival in northern Scotland. There were eight of us who went to the inaugural Brew at the Bog music festival, sponsored by the Glasgow-based Brew Dog Brewery at Bogbain Farm outside of Inverness. The festival was only a one-day event, but anyone attending could go up the night before and camp out as well as the night after the festival.

Other than the Muskegon Summer Celebration, which I don't really think counts as a music festival, I'd never been to a festival before and was well excited! So after some cake and early-morning catch-up work in the office, we loaded our camping equipment, sleeping bags, backpacks, and my little suitcase (I was flying back to the US for my sister's wedding immediately afterward) into a taxi cab that took us down to the bus station where we quickly loaded our things on and sat down. Two buses were going the same direction, but they overpacked one of the buses leaving a very old man and his wife seatless, but the driver took off regardless. Penne's boyfriend Adam shouted down the driver while Penne and someone else gave up their seats so the old couple (who were protesting that they'd be fine standing for the hour-and-a-half-long bus ride!) could have a seat. Eventually the two buses pulled over and Adam switched to the other bus which was half-empty. CityLink Buses, you lose this round.

A few hours later, after driving through a beautiful glacially sculpted landscape of the Cairngorms National Park, we arrived in Inverness and headed to the grocery store to buy our supplies: hamburgers, sausages, buns, crisps, BBQs, peppers, and alcohol - lots and lots of cider and beer! Oh, and we bought a handful of child-sized camping chairs designed to look like animals, because...well, why not? Beats sitting on the ground! We hailed a cab out to the farm where maybe 10 other tents were set up. Our tents went up in a jiffy and soon were sharing food, keeping warm, and watching the beautiful sunset over the mountains to the north of Inverness.

But then the weather kicked in, and being on an unprotected hilltop right next to the ocean in early-May was apparently not the best place to be. The wind was frigid and the owner of the farm came out to let us know that she opened on of the rooms in the farmhouse so that we could stay warm for a while longer. Some campers went in immediately while many of us stayed out thinking we might eventually warm up. Eventually never came around and we soon found ourselves warming up with some beers inside with everyone else while some of the artists who were performing the next day put on a little preview for us. Everyone was in good spirits, but we were soon asked to leave so they could prepare the room for the next day and all of the campers were sent back to their tents. Determined to stay warm, a large bonfire was built and everyone all gathered around it to keep warm and talk to each other. The crowd dwindled as the night went on as people went back to their tents and fell asleep.

Early the next morning (Saturday) everyone was feeling well good and preparing for the festival which started at noon. The farm had a grassy yard out back where the Main Stage was set up and then inside a stone barn a smaller stage was set up under strings of colored lights, and a third performance space for the acoustic artists was in an adjacent room. Three stages, one small area, 12 hours of music, delicious craft beer. It really couldn't get any better. Two more friends of ours, Fiona and Carl, showed up and we all spent the rest of the day wandering between the different stages, talking to friendly people, dancing (well, I danced), eating, and imbibing Brew Dog. Of course, in true Scotland form, the weather also changed as quickly as the acts did. Bright and sunny one minute, snowing the next, sunny again, rainy, sunny. But the music was fantastic! Other than Brew Dog there were no other sponsors and since most of the acts were local (sans a fantastic Bluegrass band called, Woody Pines, out of North Carolina) the festival really had a Scottish feel to it. There was an eclectic mix of acoustic, rock, Scottish rap, and folk music, amongst others. I really wish I could recommend some artists for you, but to be honest...I was terrible at putting together the name of the band with what I heard in my memory. That will have to wait until later!

The night ended with a band called, Washington Irving, and the festival couldn't have ended on a higher note. No one was out of control, but everyone by that time was dancing and singing and just enjoying life! But the night wasn't over when the music stopped. Those of us camping that night, and there were many more who joined us, went back to the cow pasture, and someone lit a bonfire in a big metal rubbish bin and the night continued like the previous night with laughter, singing, more drinking, and general merriment until people slipped away to their tents.

Sunday morning was rough for everyone what with all the mixtures of beer, cider, and liquor people had the day before, but through the cold, people perked up once they got up and one of the vendors from the festival was nice enough to stick around one more day to make bacon, egg, and cheese rolls, coffee, oatmeal, and juice to anyone who wanted it. They were a God-send! So throughout the morning, we all sat around in what seats were left (turns out, we are all a little too big to be sitting in children's camping chairs) chatted some more, sang Penne "Happy Birthday" and enjoyed the morning.


Our friends Fiona and Carl drove in from Aberdeen, and since I was flying out from Aberdeen to London Heathrow that night, I packed all my things into their car and headed back to the city with them. We had the option of going the longer more scenic way or the faster more boring way. I didn't really feel I had a choice: the longer, more scenic way we went! The road took us through the small touristy town of Aviemore which is sort of like base camp for the few ski resorts out that way. But then our road left civilization all together as we drove past the town of Nethy Bridge where a local Highlands Games were going on and into Caringorms National Park.

The park is desolate with incredibly few roads going through it, and we took the one that goes right through the center winding our way around gently sloping granite domes, hairpinning down into creek valleys and back up out of them, in a land of no trees and patches of burned heather that create interesting geometric patterns, scrapes, and blotches on the hillsides. A photograph in the Aberdeen Airport says that farmers will burn the heather for agriculture and sport. What sport that is, I'm not sure!

As we came back into civilization, we stopped in the little town of Ballater for some ice cream and to stretch our legs. Cute little town, one that people from Aberdeen might retire to. It's also the next town down the road from Balmoral Castle, where the Royal Family retreats for a few weeks in the summer, so some of the shops and stores in Ballater are the official bakers or craftsmen for the Royal Family and honored so by a plaque/crest that hangs outside their shops saying how awesome they are!

Farther along the road, toward Aberdeen, we made one more stop at Crathes Castle, just outside of Banchory which isn't so much a castle as it is a beautiful estate house with an amazing garden. The property is owned by the National Trust for Scotland so parts of it you had to pay to get in to, such as the house. We weren't interested in paying to get in, and I wanted to do some laundry and eat before my plane departed, so we drove on to Aberdeen.

Aberdeen is a great little city, from what I could tell. It's built up nowadays around the oil and gas industry of the North Sea, but earlier had been an important part of the Slave Trade triangle and the tobacco industry of the US, so there are a lot of massive, impressive houses there. The city looks gray and angularly utilitarian, but it's only because the buildings are mostly made out of granite which is more difficult to shape than softer rocks like sandstone or limestone; therefore, it's more geometric. But the streets are lined with trees and it just feels more open. I'm looking forward to a time when I can go back and experience more of it, but this wasn't it. We got to Fiona and Carl's, I took a shower while they threw my dirty clothes into the laundry, and we had a pizza for dinner. But that was it as I immediately packed up again and Fiona took me to the Aberdeen (Dyce) Airport - which pretty much uses oil company billboard ads as wallpaper! - and I was soon on my way back to Michigan for my sister's wedding! But first, I had to get through Heathrow...
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BrewBog, a set on Flickr.
Creative Commons License
This work by Eric W. Portenga is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.