The Mezzanine

I'm overseas again! This time for a two-week journey around New Zealand's North Island.

It's really fun, so far. And so very close to Australia that I keep forgetting that I've left my country. (Exceptions: the lack of gumtrees, the astonishing amounts of Te Reo Maori written on all the signs, and the money.) Even the accents aren't giving it away – because New Zealanders are so often in Australia that I'm pretty used to them.

So far, I've landed in Auckland, driven up to the Bay of Islands (a nice, beachy area), and driven back down to Hamilton (a lovely town, with some gorgeous parkland). Tomorrow we go to Second Breakfast at Hobbiton, before spending a week in Rotorua.

It's really nice getting my kids to the age where travelling with them ISN'T just horribly stressful.

There are ads for ambulance-chasing lawyers EVERYWHERE.

You guys flip lightswitches UP to turn them on, instead of down.

When Canadians say "this is closed for winter", what they really mean is "this will not be open until summer".

Cars only have numberplates on the back, instead of front and back.

"Sausage" means anything made of sausage meat, rather than actual sausages.

Turning right on red is something I knew about in advance, but it is still an utterly crazy concept that freaks me out whenever I do it.

Squirrels can be BLACK! I had no idea.

I've been in New York City for the last five days. Leaving for upstate in the morning.

We have seen: the Empire State Building, a show on Broadway, Times Square, Grand Central Station, the Public Library, the Twin Towers Memorial, Central Park, the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, the Natural History Museum, Washington Square Park, Prospect Park, and far too many subway stations to count.

Random observings:
- New Yorkers have ghastly traffic manners (both foot and road – the cars start beeping at the slightest provocation, and I have been sworn at twice for accidentally stepping in front of someone) but the loveliest subway manners. Every time I walk onto a train with my kids people are immediately leaping to their feet to offer us seats. (In Melbourne, they'd be trying to ignore me in the hopes that they could sit, even if I looked actively disabled.)

- America's reputation for Mexican food is justified! It's delicious. (America's reputation for hamburgers is, so far, leaving me sadly disappointed.)

- Spanish is EVERYWHERE. I am no longer surprised at the number of English-speaking Americans who seem to absorb Spanish by osmosis.

- Black people here have the most exquisitely fascinating hairstyles I have ever seen. I keep wanting to compliment them, and then deciding they might think I'm racist, or something.

- All your shop doors are, to my Australian eyes, installed backwards. I'm used to pushing my way into shops, and pulling my way out. Here, all the doors swing out into the street.

- Security at tourist attractions is incredibly tight. I keep getting asked to do bag x-rays, and metal detectors, and who knows what else. At the Statue of Liberty, the metal detector picked up the buttons on my jeans (and everyone else's jeans – they were wanding every second person). In Australia, the most I've ever been asked for is a basic bag check.

- TV has not lied to me about the demographics of different professions. So far, hospitality has been 80% hispanic with the occasional black person, security has been 80% black with the occasional hispanic person, and subway employees have been split, 50-50. Nowhere there have I seen a single white person.

- If I were living in New York, I would prefer Brooklyn to Manhattan. Far more my speed. (My hotel is in Brooklyn.)

- My favourite things to see were the Public Library, and Washington Square Park. Both are free. Highly recommend them, especially if you visit the park on a weekend.

For the first, and probably last, time in my life, I'm going to America!


The plan is currently Washington DC – New York City – somewhere – Niagara Falls - Toronto - Detroit. Then we're staying in Detroit for about a week before heading home.

This is all happening in just over a week, so I am frantically booking EVERYTHING. It's astonishing how long a list I can come up with of Things To See In America, without even thinking. So far, we're seeing the Smithsonian, the Statue of Liberty, the Twin Towers Memorial, the Museum of Natural History, and a Broadway show. Unfortunately, given the time frame we won't get to see the Capitol building, but we're going to check out all the monuments!


If anyone's got a suggestion of what I should do for two days while driving from New York City to Niagara, please chime in!

If I take a yellow crayon, draw a circle, surround it with lines, and put a smiley face on the circle, you'll probably recognise it as the sun.

Even though the sun looks nothing like that.

Supposing, though, that you see these smiley-face-on-a-circle suns in books for years, and then one day you travel to the country of Storybookia, and you suddenly look up in the sky and realise that the reason the sun is always drawn that way in picture books is because, in Storybookia, the sun really looks like that.

...That's kind of what it's like going from Australia to Europe.



In my head, there's "what things look like", and "what things look like in picture books". These two things are rarely the same.

In Europe? Ducks look like picture book ducks, with the green heads and the neck stripe. Forests look like picture book forests. Houses have chimneys. Grass is green. Flowers grow out of the ground like it's nothing special. Squirrels exist! So do flamingos! Churches have church bells that actually ring on the hour. Birds say tweet (except for cuckoos, which really do say cuckoo). Christmas has snow and twinkly lights.

And no - the sun is not a big yellow smiley face. But it wouldn't have surprised me.

People have different first names in different countries, for the record. It's like this whole thing.


I have found it very interesting having a son in Germany, for many reasons. But mostly because his name's gone all weird.

In Australia, he has one of the most common names ever to exist. It's been in the top 20 Aussie baby names since before we were even a country. In Australia, everyone already knows the spelling, the pronounciation, and the nickname, without having to ask.

In Germany... it's not just an uncommon name; it's a non-existent name.

Here, I'm getting very used to having the exact same conversation over and over:
"What's his name?"
"Lachlan."
"...what?"
"Lachlan."
"...Lach-lan?" (as though I've just presented them with a random mash of syllables that must be carefully tested)
"Yes. Lachlan. It's Scottish."
"...oh."
"Yep."
"...so she's a girl, then?"

They cannot pronounce my son's name. They cannot spell my son's name. The correct spelling convinces them they were wrong about the pronounciation. And they're all sure he's a girl.

It's rather fascinating.

Today I fulfilled one of my lifelong ambitions, by standing outside Downing Street and eating half a Yorkie Bar. (The husband ate the other half.) We then walked to St James' Park, and looked at the ducks.


(We also went on the London Eye, had communion at Westminster Abbey, and went to Madame Tussauds. All very fun.)

1) Stonehenge really exists, and is not an elaborate hoax. (Or else a really well-constructed one.)

2) Winchester Cathedral does indeed have a jigsaw puzzle window. One day I will solve it...

3) Walked on top of Jane Austen's grave without realising. Hope she'll forgive me.

4) The white cliffs of Dover are, in fact, white and cliff-like.

5) Stayed in the most adorable attic room known to man. Want to take it back to Australia with me.

6) Ramsgate does exist, but is slightly more modern than Georgiana Darcy would have found it.

7) London traffic is rather horrendous, as expected.

8) Also - have reached London! So far, have only seen our hostel. (And traffic.)

Edinburgh!

My sister has been known to grumble about the weird British taps, and now I know why: it seems impossible to select both the water temperature and the water volume, simultaneously. You pick your favourite, and try to endure the other one.

We went to Edinburgh Castle yesterday, which was very cool. It's the first time I've seen a castle that has always (pre-museum) been a fully functioning thing, as opposed to being semi-ornamental, and it shows. Rather fascinating. It also afforded me the chance to drink my very first British cup of tea, which was as yummy as I was hoping.

The streets up to the castle could not be more clearly tourist-centric if they tried. If we wanted, we could have bought tartan (kilts, hats, bags, wellies, towels...) at twenty different shops. I was tempted, but refrained. The other standard souvenirs seem to be shortbread and whiskey. I even saw whiskey flavoured tea... which strikes me as slightly gross.

Today, we're going to Hopetoun House, where we will wander the grounds and have a traditional afternoon tea (scones and all), and then to Hadrian's Wall.

Just had a red squirrel run past my window, examine the porch, realise I was there, freeze, and run off again.

I SAW A SQUIRREL. FROM LIKE A METRE AWAY.

*dances*