091 – Wellington

I’ve been fighting it off ever since, but today it hit. That being said, I have a few hours to kill before the ferry goes to Picton, so I’m going to go out and see what I can.

I’m not sure the mural is a complement, an insult, or even who exactly is portrayed, but it certainly is something notable at Queens Wharf, the hub of waterfront activities in Lambton Harbour.
Completeed in 1862, Queens Wharf was the first government constructed wharf in Wellington and the first major port facility in the city.
They reclaimed over 160 meters of land to build the area and provide deep water facilities for the increase of shipping traffic.

There are extensive walkways and businesses along the water, including a wonderful Museum of New Zealand.

I freely admit I was not up for learning today, and there are limited places pictures can be taken inside, so I wandered the exhibits for a while but did not absorb much.
Having said that, there is a lot here and it was worth a look, especially if you want to learn about the Māori.

This is ‘Solace in the Wind’ or what everyone calls ‘the naked man’ statue. It is next to the museum and unusual in the fact there is really nothing else around him.
Not exactly sure what the message the creator is trying to portray with this piece of art, but it is certainly thought provoking. Mostly my thoughts revolved around taking a silly picture of me touching his butt, then having some caption about how I push men to the edge or several other thoughts I will not bore you with. But alas, people were watching and I did not want to be arrested for indecent anything.

There are a lot of plaques around the warf area. Some are poetry or sayings. Some are descriptive explaining what you are looking at, and then there are a lot… a whole heck of a lot of plaques commemorating things.
The most interesting I found was titled the “Polish Children of Pahiatua 1944-2004”
Apparently, on 31 October 1944, 733 Polish refugee children and 105 adult caregivers sailed into Wellington Harbour on the USS General Randall.
This group was invited by Peter Fraser, Prime Minister of New Zealand to stay here for the remainder of WWII, so on 1 November they settled in the Polish Children’s Camp in Pahiatua.
All of these kids lost their homes and family members following the 1939 German invasion of Poland, the occupation of Eastern Poland by the USSR and subsequent deportations of 1,7000,000 polish people to the USSR.
In 1941 the USSR joined the Allies and granted “amnesty” to the Polish who were deported to the USSR. They also agreed to the formation of the Polish Army in the USSR, and agreed to evacuate them to Iran if they agreed to fight against the common enemy.
Only 120,000 soldiers and civilians were evacuated before mass graves of thousands of Polish officers were discovered in the Katyn Forest. All assumed they were murdered by Soviet Secret Police, but the USSR denied responsibility, and out of retaliation or being caught, the USSR halted the amnesty.
After two years in Iran, the 733 children who had been part of the evacuation from the USSR arrived in New Zealand. At the end of the war they were to return to Poland, however, under the Yalta Agreement Eastern Poland was annexed by the USSR and the rest of the country was under communist domination.
It was unsafe for the children to return to their homeland, so most accepted the Government’s offer to stay in New Zealand.
They became self-sufficent, hard working loyal citizens and 60 years later, together with their families, they say thank you to the New Zealand Government, New Zealand Army, Catholic Church, caregivers, teachers and all who extended a helping hand in their time of crisis.

That was the story on one of several plaques that lined the area. another one was from the United States Marine Corps who arrived here in May of 1942, and went on to serve in the Pacific Theater.
Another was about a private Japanese expedition that sailed into the harbor in 1911 to get supplies to Scott and Amundsen on Antarctica.

So, I suppose this is a very historic port, or at least one that people like to put historic plaques on.

This is also a place of many festivals, and this weekend apparently was no exception. As I wandered aimlessly, many crews were setting up for the Homegrown Festival, which is a music festival that features local, or homegrown New Zealand artists from what I could tell.
I did two other things in Wellington as I waited for my ferry to the south island.
The first was I found a Starbucks and loaded myself with caffeine. Which I followed with a trip to the ‘discount chemist’ or their version of Walgreens to find some head cold drugs.
The second, since I still had time to kill, was to find a local brewery. Everyone recommended Garage Project and their Cellar Door tap room.

I am guessing their name has something to do with the fact it appears they converted an old gas station into a brewery, but I do not have facts. They may have started in a garage, but now, on my last day on the North Island, I pulled out the John’s magnet and have a picture of it next to beer.

Although I am not feeling the best, I still went out and tried to experience Wellington. I also tried to stay outside and away from people as much as possible, and yes, I did wear a mask at times so I would not contaminate the planet.
Given the circumstances, I liked Wellington, or at least what I saw of it. I did not go on the cable car or the botanical garden, but despite how I usually travel, today it was okay to slow down.
We all need to take a breath. We all need to self care and heal. Some of us I am told even need sleep, but I still believe that is a myth.
I am learning a lot on this trip about the term ‘vacation’ and how it really is not a definable thing. Each time I go somewhere it is different. This trip is longer, more stressful, and entirely more rewarding than anything I have done. But the rewards are all in the realizations.
Sometimes things work out; sometimes they don’t. Sometimes it is great to go, go, go! Sometimes it is okay to stop. You can plan every second of a trip or nothing at all, and both experiences are rewarding. You can take tours or cruises to see the world, or you can rent a car and just go.
There is no right or wrong way to travel. There is no ideal in every situation. And that is entirely confusing, confounding and comforting.
So, on a day where things were odd but still okay, I leave you with this bird waiting at table 58 for her coffee order. Because that is okay. I wondered what she ordered.