Dunedin and Otago

We've been traveling, and internet has been spotty, so if you've been waiting for us to account for ourselves, here goes.  I was looking at pictures, trying to decide what to post, and realized that we'd had too much fun to cram everything into one entry, so I'll try to break it up a little in case your attention spans are as short as mine.

A week ago Tuesday we flew to Dunedin, near the bottom of the South Island, or "the mainland," as some of the locals call it.  The South Island has fewer people, but it is home to some of the most spectacular scenery on the planet.  Settlers likely felt somewhat at home in the climate and quickly worked towards making it into a sort of mini-Scotland by importing sheep and deer and initiating farming and industry that made it seem even more like home.  Teddy Roosevelt decided the Kiwis needed elk as well and gifted them with the wapiti.  Now there is even a hybrid of elk and deer on grassy slopes and in the forest.  I still regret my failure to take a picture of John with the huge statue of Robert Burns, but someone was filming there at the time.

  Dunedin's original name was New Edinburgh, and its current name is that, translated from the original Celtic.  It was home to the first university in NZ, and our friend Mary's father was dean of the medical school there.  It still feels very much like a university town.  We had a somewhat charming accommodation, close to the Octagon of the central business district, with a lovely courtyard with fountains and lots of flowers.  Unfortunately, there also seemed to be a tap dance convention next door, stocked with early risers, who clattered about at 5 a.m.

We ventured downtown, resisting the delicious smells wafting out of Cadbury World, and made our way towards the Dunedin Public Art Gallery.  It included some interesting art, but the building itself was also lovely in an art deco sort of way.  Afterwards, we visited the botanic gardens, which seemed very manicured, like an English formal garden.  Walked by the water in the sun and admired the big trees and the beds of flowers, more imports than those that flourish in the native bush.  Also a highlight:  an aviary that contained many species of parrots with bright colors and engaging ways.  They seemed to enjoy interacting with humans, and we certainly enjoyed interacting with them.

The next day we began at the Museum of Otago.  The two outstanding features were memorabilia of Sir Edmund Hillary (photos, the cup with his name on it he'd used at the top of Everest, family history, a letter he'd written saying he thought of himself as an "ordinary person") and a wonderful butterfly exhibit.  We'd gotten there just at the time they released the newly- hatched butterflies into the "rain forest" aviary, so we got to help.  There were bright blue morphios, many kinds and colors of swallowtails, a brown moth with tangerine and orchid spots, black and green "jades," and many more. Also two geckos, too lazy to eat butterflies, quail, tarantulas, turtles and some tiny finches. We were invited to put our fingers near the new butterflies' legs, to let them climb on, and then to release them into the air.  Apparently, they like sweat as well as fruit and flower nectar.  One of them stayed on my chin for quite some time.

In the golden afternoon light, we made our way onto the Otago peninsula.  It is rocky and winding, even more so than the Shelly Bay Rd., for those of you who've visited us here in Wellington.  The views were breathtaking.  Sun and boats and blue, blue water.  At the end of the peninsula, we found ourselves at the Royal Albatross Reserve.  The wind had turned cold, and we bundled up a little for the walk out to the edge of the rocky cliffs.  These are magnificent birds, with a wingspan over 10 ft. After visiting the center, we would have loved to see the huge, fuzzy chicks, but we didn't have time for the next tour before our date with the penguins (!).

So, it was back up the curvy roads towards Penguin Place.  We were a few minutes early, so we had time to view the red monarch butterflies and admire the fuchsia and agapanthus on the hillside.  John initiated a relationship with Simba, the long-haired cat, and I got in a little dog time with the 4 springer spaniels while we waited for Rhonda, our guide, and our two other companions to arrive for the tour.  Yellow-eyed penguins (hoihoi) are the second-rarest on earth, with only 1,000 in the world.  At the reserve, they're trying to help them make a comeback by creating a nesting habitat on the coastline, protected on its outskirts by a working farm. First, we visited the penguin hospital, where they had one chick, an adolescent too underweight to molt, and two others.  Then we boarded a shaky school bus and wove towards the nesting grounds.  Tiptoeing along the paths, we followed Rhonda, who shushed us and motioned us to freeze as they approached:  two males, Todd and Flax.  They came quite close.  Here, the limits of our camera and photography skills become clear, but it was really something to see them.

From there, we moved down towards the water and took some pictures of a seal family while scanning the water for penguins who might be coming in the evening after fishing all day.  No go.  So we worked our way back uphill to the cleverly disguised trenches to stealthily view the two mating pairs still "at home" for molting.  Doug and Donna were pretty quiet, but Jim and Jess obliged us by grooming one another and "kissing" in that way you see in nature programs on TV.  Rhonda shared that they'd been together for 9 years, then split up for 3 after losing a chick, then reunited.

Inspired by penguin love, it was time for us to move on.