Cycling in the rain

Did your mother ever tell you not to play in the rain?
Why? you asked.
 Because you get sick! That's why.

It's been raining these few days, especially in the evenings.
I looked at the sky, and it promised rain. Cloudy. Overcast. Just a matter of time.

I decided maybe I could beat the rain.
I put on my super nice t-shirt (the red one which doesn't make me smell from sweating) and my padded pants, gloves, sleeves, shoes, socks and helmet of course. With splash of suntan lotion too. Actually, SPF.

I set out, heading for Penaga. I made good time. Averaging 2 and half minutes per kilometre.

When I reached the paddy fields after Penaga, I looked towards Kuala Muda (north-west) and saw the dark clouds pushing in. And then the droplets started fall to confirm my prognosis.

I decided it was time to turn back. After less than 30 minutes riding. About 10 km of pedaling.

I turned on to the tarred road and headed back. Less than 5 minutes later I was drenched. It poured buckets down on me. I considered hiding at a bus stop. There were also quite a few shelters near houses and stalls.

Nah, I decided to keep pedaling.

Did I go crazy?

Well I figured I was only about half an hour from home. So, I won't be soaked for more than that short period. I am fit enough. If I keep pedaling fast I would keep my body warm and won't catch a chill.

I turned on my flashing front LED light and pushed the pedals. Along the way I passed two kids happily cycling the rain. Where's their mummies?

Road holding for the MTB was good. The hazard comes when passing cars make a big splash from the pools of water on the road. Mostly, the passing cars were considerate and didn't splash me too much.

After about 20 minutes of continuous downpour, it eased abit.

It was then I realised there's another benefit to the super shirt and pants. They didn't absorb the rain. The water just drained out so I didn't feel I was wearing clothes soaked heavy with rain. Or sticking to my body.

Ah, but the shoes and socks were a different story. They were really soaking wet. Hhmm, need same type of shoes and socks like my shirt and pants. Microfibre I presume.

Riding in heavy rain wasn't a big problem except my glasses get clouded with the water. Also the eyes sting from the rain pouring down. I wondered if it had anything to do with the chemicals the rain absorbed from the atmosphere? You don't feel the sting under your shower do you? Oh, we probably close our eyes under the shower but you can't do that riding your bike on the road.

Perhaps I should scout for a thin raincoat?

So far, I don't feel any chills coming. No sneezing either, though I had to blow my nose during the ride.

It was quite fun, but not something you should do on a regular basis.

For the record, I covered 21.46 km in a little over 58 minutes. Average speed 22 kph, top speed 28.8 kph. And I beat my previous record for 20 km by 1 min 39 seconds! (20 km in 52 min 26 sec). That is according to the GPS tracker on Endomondo.

On the speedometer attached to the bike, it is 57:49 minutes total riding time; average speed 22.6 kph; max speed 28.4; distance 21.87 km. So that quite match. This is called independent verification?

postscript the morning after : I'm perfectly fine.

pss - 10/10/2012 : I got caught in the rain again a few days ago and figured out that the sting in my eye is actually from the salt of my sweat. So when the rain water falls down over my head, it washes the salt into my eyes.

Celebrating 55 years of life

When the organisers label their cycling event as fun ride, don't think for a moment that they are going to take you on a leisurely ride. Not with 1,200 riders, many with top-of-range state-of-the-art bikes, and most probably cycling every weekend, pumping their thigh and calf muscles to tip-top shape. Their hearts probably could fly with the wind.

Yesterday, 16th September 2012, Malaysia Day, we went to Alor Setar for the 4th Cycle for Health and Environment event. Starting outside the Stadium, we went south, then up north, turned east and then south back to the stadium, a distance of about 62 km. Organised by the LM Bikers Club and several other parties with many corporate sponsors, the registration fee was a mere RM40. The goodies bag included a t-shirt which everyone is supposed to wear (most did, a few did not but who's going to stop them and make a scene?).

We decided to stay the night so that we didn't have to get up at 4 am to drive to an unfamiliar place. The hotel near the Zahir Mosque (gorgeous architecture) was old but clean and cheap except the air-con was loud throughout the night and the damn sink takes forever to drain. We had the night to paint the town red so we went for a heritage walk. The map was quite poor but the worst was the walkways - broken, pools of water, slippery, uneven and very poor construction and design. Of course, the city folks did make a big effort to spruce up the CBD but it's still a hazard walking around. So, we headed for Thai dinner opposite the hotel, which was a disappointment. Then we went hunting for a can of beer(yes, only one can) and found it in a small sundry shop. And we slept early.

That's the story of our one-night stand in Alor Setar.

Next morning, we woke up at 5 am, mainly because I am the one who needs to be properly adjusted for the long ride. I need to eat, drink and wait a bit for the critical movements. You don't want to do your business by the roadside in the bush.

By 6 am we were out of the hotel and arrived at the stadium carpark early (less than 10 minutes from the hotel) for me to reassemble the two MTBs. Putting back the wheels is actually very fast - just put it in the slots, and clip it. No tools needed. BUT remember, before you clip them, spin the wheels to see that they turn freely. The way to know it is, it needs to spin fast for quite some time, like at least 20 seconds. If the wheels come to a stop after turning for say four or five rounds than it's not properly aligned. Remember if you have disk brakes, a slight shift would cause the disks to rub together.

OH, note to self. In future, bring a torch light for working in the dark.

When we bought the tiny GETZ hatchback, we didn't realise it could now double as our MTB carrier. Nice bonus.

Make sure you secure the parts so that they don't topple over each other or become a driving hazard. Put old cloths or foam for cushion where necessary, especially where sharp edges could damage the tyres.

BTW, the bike shop guy had discouraged me from dismantling the back wheel because he said the gears could go out of alignment. Always make sure that the gears set are not damaged by pressing against other objects.

Our first long distance ride was with the MPSP gang (35 km) with our old bikes. Then we did the 28 km for the LP MTB grand opening. And we had done 66 km before but mostly, we ride between 35 km to 45 km on our weekend rides -very slowly. Unfortunately, we went to New Zealand and Australia for a holiday before the Alor Setar ride so my poor wife was without "practice" for more than one month.

So, she was bit out of shape for yesterday's ride. She had to ride fast in the beginning because some marshalls were telling people to "hurry up" so she probably burnt herself up at the beginning. I need to work on her pacing. She had asked me to ride ahead but what the heck, we were supposed to do it together. So I reminded myself to slow down and wait once in a while for her to catch up.

She thought she would just let the sweepers carry her up on the trucks after the 38 km feeding point. But she got energised with the bananas and 100 Plus and made it all the way without aid. Along the way, several marshalls paused to asked if she was alright. Towards the end, she was actually worried the sweepers would lose patience with all the slow riders and just put them on the trucks. I assured her they wouldn't do that unless we exceeded the time limit. At one stage, an ambulance shadowed her and it was quite funny. Honestly, I think the ambulance just happened to be driving slowly behind her. We were way back at the end of the long line of riders.

Marshals on bicycles did a good job riding along on the outside, even with the slow riders. There were also marshals on superbikes, RELA on small bikes and the traffic police on their huge bikes. Takes a whole team to ride safe.

An ambulance trailing Moong Nah.

About 6:30 am, waiting for the 7 am flagoff by the Minister.

At the 38 km feeding station. We were about 25 minutes behind the front runners.

Bananas are essential for any bike event

A sweeper truck - get a free ride back if your legs give way.

All sorts of people come to such events. Old and young (and very young). Boys and girls. Rich and poor. Fat and skinny. Fit and weak. Fast and slow.

I am puzzled at this latest craze with cycling events. What makes people come to such events? The CFAL (campaign for a lane) in Penang the previous weekend reportedly attracted 3,600 riders, with many unable to register. And that's a super tough 82 km around Penang Island through the hills of Balik Pulau and Telok Bahang. Is it the free gifts? The very attractive lucky draws? Or the camaraderie, or being part of a very public event? Many of the riders are very good friends, belonging to small or big clubs, riding on weekends all over the country and even outside the country (like Phuket). Many are obviously serious riders. From the timestamp on the photos on facebook, many old, young, boys, girls, men, women ... the front riders made it to the finish line by a little passed 10 am. And also probably slowed down by the marshals in front (riders were warned not to ride faster than the marshals).

I did look at my handphone clock a little after we arrived back at the finish point - it was about 10:25 am. So, actually, we did very well.

Are people joining really for the health benefits? Probabl,y but it takes quite an effort to join these activites -the registration, getting the events. Or do they join to make a statement and to fight for the right to ride safely on our streets?

I saw people coming in expensive vehicles (even one carrying his MTB in the trunk of his Mercedes).

They can't all be there just for the thrill of the lucky draws, could they?

BTW this was our lucky prize, one of the consolations drawn while we were riding.

21st September 2012
If it weren't for the three changes to retirement age (originally 55, then 56, then 58, now 60 years), I should be shaking legs from today.

Since the above post, there has been some really lovely photos published on facebook, especially by Cycling Malaysia Magazine so I am putting it up here for posterity. The cameraman from the magazine have super long lenses to give you beautiful shots. Imagine with 1,200 participants and we both showed up in some really nice pictures. Thanks CMM!

And here's the Endomondo route of the ride in Alor Setar.

Obviously we slowed down quite a bit after the 38th km feeding point.

I tried a solo run after the Alor Setar ride covering 55 km from home, non-stop except for very brief stops to reset the sports tracker, quick drink of water and of course at junctions for traffic lights and crossings. I did the whole round in about 2 hours 45 minutes but towards the end was quite drained (without the banana stop). The first 38 km was done in about 1 hour 45 minutes. Quite respectable. I know I can do endurance better than speed. My heart won't take it, 'cause I have not trained for it. Leave that to the young people.

Alright, looking for the next event to participate.

And in the meantime, Happy 55th Birthday to ME!

Grandmother of Ergonomics

You probably don't know what ergonomics is (Ask Wiki). Until you get a slipped disk from incorrect posture carrying a heavy load. Or get aches in your wrists and elbows from chairs and tables which are too high (or mismatched) while you spend the whole day at the keyboard working on that paper or being a keyboard monkey. And then you start to blame your employer.

I asked the waitress at her (Lin's) favourite Japanese restaurant at the EQ in Penang to take a good look at this "grandmother" and to guess her age. She took a very long look, knowing very well there must be a catch. The waitress said "55". The grandmother said "thank you", obviously very happy - one day before her birthday tomorrow (9-eleven) when she will be 6X (keep guessing). The waitress continued, "you mean 60+ plus?", quite impressed. "70+?", she tried some more with shock.

Tan Guat Lin, Evelyn joined the School of HBP as a lecturer in 1977. The same year I entered the School as an undergraduate. She remembers me as being "stubborn". I didn't want to do this. Didn't want to do that. And she said I "insisted she write a letter of recommendation" to a foundation for me to get some sponsorship (did I?). She was my academic advisor. But I refused to enrol in her environmental science course. I insisted on getting an exemption (the reason I gave was I already had enough credits to graduate, but I think there was some other reason, shhh). She gave in eventually and I got exempted. "But look who's the environmentalist now", she retorted at lunch just now.

Yoke Mui, who was also at the farewell lunch just now related an incident when she went to Lin's office one day. Lin was going through the feedback forms from students who took her class. One student wrote on the back : "I don't know what you are talking about in class. But I come everyday of class because I like looking at you". Must have been one of the hot-blooded males.

Yes, Lin is calling it a day after serving 35 years with the School of HBP. I thought it kinda sad that academics at HBP just fade away after they retire - all she got was a thank you letter signed by the administrative officer (who probably didn't realise she has served 35 years). I said the letter should have been signed by the Vice-Chancellor. So I said over lunch that I would write about her in my blog, for posterity. I asked her about her career and life in HBP  - what did she remember most, what she thought was her greatest achievement, skip the negatives.

Well, she didn't look for a job at HBP. She had not even completed her PhD in UK when Dean Shen (an Englishman) wrote her a letter offering her a job as a lecturer. It was her husband, an architect, who was looking for a job and had gone to see the Dean of HBP but the latter found out about Lin's area of research and thought it fitted perfectly with the philosophy of the School. Psst, the husband didn't the job. So, she was of course the young hot lecturer, probably in many of the student's dreams (OK, you can censor if you like, but I'm just going with the flow here) but being female wasn't easy in a male-dominated campus. You get the sense that she encountered the proverbial glass ceiling.

And so it was with relish that along the way came Fawizah Lucas, lady extraordinaire architect who was parachuted in by the University to become Dean. The lady dean shook things up, and told Lin to "go for it". For those of you not in the know, Fawizah's architect husband designed the USM Mosque on the main campus. Fawizah had her own detractors who saw her as a challenge so when she left, Lin lost an ally.

There are good bosses and there are obnoxious bosses who can make life difficult. It just takes one. Lin served seven different deans. And one of them gave her hell, with help from cronies. From then on her academic career went downhill. I can relate to that because I was similarly targeted by that same boss but I quite managed to survive.

What was she most proud of?, I asked. You won't find it written in any document but she was one of the researchers appointed by the government to carry out the studies which eventually led to the planning guidelines for the sitting of factories (based on emissions standards) still being used by the Department of Environment.

Lin is an expert not just in ergonomics but environmental monitoring and controls. She is in high demand from the many factories. And she is leaving at a time when her ergonomics knowledge is in high demand. How so? There's increasing number of industrial accident cases which require her expert knowledge.

How long will she continue working? "Forever", she said. The kids are grown up but no grandchildren yet (so she should not be the "grandmother of ergonomics"?). She still needs to work though you could say that in her youth she almost had a silver spoon in her mouth. The story is too personal to tell in detail. Her father worked for a really really really rich tycoon in Penang and the family stayed in the tycoon's bungalow (really huge one). So Lin grew up not knowing how to take the bus 'cause she was chauffeured to school everyday. One day the driver didn't show up so she cried because she didn't know how to go home on her own. Luckily, a classmate showed her the way home by bus. Everyday, an amah would bring Milo for her (and cousins) during recess, nothing else. Milo everyday, imagine. Now when she sees Milo, she wants to throw up.

How about hawker food, I once asked. Did you all send the servants out with tiffins in chauffeur-driven cars to taupau for char koay teow or hokkein char? She looked at me as though I had gone bananas. They had servants to serve anything they want to eat. Those were the good old days.

She said she can't really complain. Afterall, the University renewed her yearly contract nine times from the time she had to go on mandatory retirement at the very young age of 56. It's time for her to move on but it's a lost to the University. The private sector will gain. So will another institution of higher learning, if they are smart.

Which brings the circle round to me. If they hadn't changed the retirement age three times, I would be retiring in 2 weeks time.

Happy 6X Birthday, Evelyn.

This was the farewell lunch I threw in her honour. This was to atone for all my stubbornness all those years ago which must have given her irregular heart beats.

Now, to plan for my own retirement.

Melbourne Revisited ... 11 years on

{4 September 2012, 11:15 am, Malaysian time, about 4 hours on the plane from Melbourne to KL; half way through the journey. The landscape below still looks desolate.}

The last time we visited Melbourne was in 2001 when we (all five of us) spent about a month at my sister's house in Vermont South. We rented a van and drove to Canberra, Sydney and saw the Blue Mountains. And then took the Great Ocean road for 2 or 3 days, enjoying the crayfish with instant ramen.

Huey asked me what we would like to see or do? Eat and relax, I said. Also visit the Victoria Market, walk around the city centre. And maybe visit the rehabilitated port (the Docklands). I said I saw on a documentary the port is now a happening place. It's seems that that was lie. Everyone we asked agreed that the place is still in the dumps.

“Eat? That I can do”, said Huey. What do you want to eat? Vietnamese Pho. Cocktail bun. Crayfish. Maybe some Chinese noodles. Whatever is nice.

We arrived early Saturday morning from Auckland. Had to line up for inspection by the little dog, sniffing all our bags for contraband. If you bring in food and wood products and prohibited stuff, you must declare it. Or thrash it. They even provide bins for you to throw stuff away. If you don't declare and get caught, the fine can be several hundred to thousands of dollars. Actually, the process is not so painfully slow. First, at the immigration (Border Protection, they are called now) the officer asks what you are declaring. “Chocolates from the Auckland Airport”, we said. Hhmm, he says and makes some marks of the immigration and customs declaration forms.

Then you might get intercepted at the luggage area and get asked the same question. You give the same reply. They don't say anything. Just put more marks on the cards. Then you queue up and give the customs officer your cards. Nothing to declare? This way, she points. If you say yes, then you join and special line. They line up about 6 to 8 people, trolleys and bags properly arranged in a line, people next to their bags. Then little snoopy sniffs from back of line to front of line, turns around and sniffs to the back again on the other side. If he likes your stuff he keeps sniffing it. The handler will pull him away. If snoopy is very insistent and keeps going back to your bag or box, oops, you're in trouble. You go to another line and another officer asks you to open your bags or boxes and digs inside to find contraband. Otherwise, it's actually quite fast. The dog didn't even like our chocolates.

Poor Huey waited a long time because of the long queue at the immigration. We decided to go to her house first and meet up with Vivian and Teng for lunch at Glen Waverly. After walking one round, we decided on the hand-made noodles and dumplings. I remember my sister Gek Hoon taking us to the BBQ shop at this place 11 years ago to buy some roast meat. I thought it was char siew but Huey says her mom will never buy char siew there. Her mom would make them herself! The shop is still doing a roaring business. Eating is big business in Melbourne. You have the more humble shops and the fine-dining restaurants run by celebrity chefs. Bookings are essential. We went to one called 400 Gradi for pizza baked in wood-fired oven. It was damn good. But we arrived half an hour early and it was too cold to walk around so Huey suggested we warm up in a pub. Great idea. But none of them wanted to drink. So Teng said he would buy me a beer. I said I would have a VB (that's Victoria Bitters) for old time's sake. But Teng said they try to avoid VB as far as possible. Why? It's not very nice. It tastes aweful. So, he recommended a Bees Nees (something like), inspired by honey. “Disaster averted”, Huey broadcasted on facebook. There's some urban legend related to Bees Nees but I can't figure that out yet.

What else did we eat? We had delicious Pho of course. You can have small, medium or large. Large, my friends, is damn big. Surprisingly cheap. Two small bowls and four medium for less than $50. It's all in the soup. And of course the meat. They slice the beef (you can have chicken) in very thin slices and pour hot soup over it. So the meat is still a little red when you eat. There's some green leaves which is very fragrant (Huey told me the name but memory is not so good). There's the bean sprout (they give you a huge plate). Slices of lemon to squeeze on the soup (not on the bean sprout, which was what I wanted to). Ah, and the must have chilly (freshly cut or paste or both). The really good soup tastes good but don't give you a tang in the mouth. If your mouth feels dry and funny after the meal, you know what they must have added. MSG. Yes it's ban in Australia, but who's checking. This one didn't give me that funny feeling in the mouth but I know one which does in Adelaide near the market.

We have this fascination with cocktail bun, brought over from our days in Seattle where we used to buy every time we visited Chinatown. We saw it in Melbourne the first time in 2001. Actually, we discovered it by accident and introduced them to the locals (meaning my sister and family). I found them in Adelaide too. It's an ordinary bun which has creamy milky coconut feelings. Vivian had it three times and bought some for her plane ride back on Sunday night. Huey texted me last night while we were along Russell Street and asked whether wanted more. I said yes (of course). And we had it at the airport for breakfast this morning, with another three in the bag.

Cocktail bun

We had delicious soup, salad and a vegetarian roll at the cafe in CERES in Brunswick for lunch yesterday. All vegetarian lunch. All organic. And I think zero emissions? CERES is a centre which promotes sustainable living, sitting on top of an old rubbish dump. They have community farming here but it is mainly a place to teach school kids (big groups there) and anyone interested on how to green our lives. There's an NGO run by volunteers which rents a space there and accepts donations of old bikes. For a small donation (like $10 or $20) you can adopt one of those bikes and they will teach you how to fix it up to working condition. Yes, you have to put in the effort. They won't do it for you. Not even for a fee.

.. oh, we had gourmet dogs bythe Yarra River ... very nice

 The last meal was dinner last night at a Chinese restaurant (Nam Ling?) opposite the cocktail bun shop (Maxim's). Steamed fresh oysters, scallops, lobster on wantan noodles (superlicious), stirred fried greens and fried chicken ribs (we argued about whether it was chicken ribs or thigh). I made a token attempt to pay for dinner, claiming to be the oldest. My wife was concerned that the bill might have been a little to much for my nephew (Keng Yih, who's technical still a student) who paid for dinner. Huey assured us he's well endowed.

That settles the eating part. The relax part was just as easy. Except for poor Huey who got sick

 because of the weather.

On the first evening, we climbed the 1000 steps of Dandenong Mountain. Worked up an appetite for gourmet pizza at Lygon Street operated by a celebrity chef (400 Gradi). The taste of wood-fired oven pizza was excellent. But they have a technique for telling customers to please leave when you are done eating because lots of people are waiting. Service was surprisingly fast. And the lady who intercepts you when you arrive walks with an air about her, in a nice way, not haughty ... but proud, in a nice way.

Sunday, we had brunch of Pho. I decided to walk to Victoria Market. The weather was lovely and sunny. My wife decided to join me. The others went in the cars, so that we don't have walk back to pick them up. And it was a very long walk. Like 30 to 40 minutes. But we got side-tracked by a bunch of Malaysian students who showed us the longer way. We were just walking along and a group of 2 girls and 3 boys were behind us, going “lah, lah, lah”. I turned around and asked “Are you Malaysians?”. Yes, of course they were. One of them from Penang Chung Ling High School.

The last time I was in Melbourne I did go on walks in the city on my own because the kids didn't want to get out of the house. In fact, they said the highlight of their trip to Australia was their aunty's house. This was part I had not seen and it was a pleasant walk. I love the naked trees with their intricate branches framing the landscape.

Naked in Melbourne

 I did another walk yesterday after the visit to CERES. I took the tram 112 to the Southern Cross Station in the city centre and then walked along the promenade outside the Crown Casino all the way to the Botanical Garden. The promenade is lively, just like the rest of the city centre. People walking, cycling, sitting, taking photos, drinking coffee and just intercepting tourists like me to ask puzzling questions in university-sponsored surveys. In this case, it was about my views on Aboriginal Tourism. I gave some answers which probably screwed up their findings. I obliged to participate to see if they do a better questionnaire. The answer? NO. But I like the use of iPad to directly input the responses to an online database.

I didn't get to visit the Botanical Gardens the last time, even though I was here for several weekends. It's along the Yarra River and quite a walk from St Kilda Road (which joins Swanston Road). No running. No cycling. No skateboarding. The garden is very big so I managed to walk a small portion very quickly. It was late and the sign at the gate says “close at sunset”. I was afraid I would be locked inside - when the hell is sunset?. The garden is lovely, well maintained but does not make any effort to plant lots of spring flowers. There's a eucalyptus tree which is older than the garden (pre-1846) and they are desperately trying various methods to regrow the bark which was severely damaged. I wish the guys back home spent more time trying to save old trees rather than chopping them at the slightest signs of decay or damage. The garden is an oasis of calm with many birds chirping away.

There several gardens next to the Botanical Gardens and around this huge green area is a running track made of compact gravel (but untarred) very popular with runners and joggers. Together with the cycling craze, it would seem Melbournians are fitness freaks. I saw a trainer with two trainees in the park doing what Huey told me are “boot camps”. They make you run around with dead weights in your hands and do all sorts of exercises.

Cycling is big. This seems to be the part which is true in the documentary about Melbourne. There are bicycle tracks running around the city but they are not separated from the traffic. Cyclists, pedestrians, vehicles and trams have to live with each other on the streets of Melbourne. It's quite fun sitting on the cold metal benches along Swanston Street watching the trams, cyclists and pedestrians create chaos. Parts of Swanston Street is dedicated to trams and cyclist only (and horse-drawn carriages). When the tram stops and the doors open, all cyclists following behind must stop, even if they are near the front or in the middle of the tram. The passengers would then swarm out of the tram while others waiting at the side of the road merge in. And you see the cyclist a little bewildered in the crowd of people swirling around them.

Battery is giving me the 10% warning. Only 20 minutes of battery life remaining. It's a good time to stop. This has been a flying visit. It's been fun. Next stop Tokyo, again, end of this year.

More photos of Melbourne on facebook.

p.s. the airports seemed to have clamped down on over weight carry-on luggage. Maximum is one carry-on (not including the laptop/notebook bag) not exceeding 7 kilograms (but they will allow up 7.5 or even close to 8, depending on the guy at the entrance to the immigration hall). The AirAsia counter in Melbourne was damn fussy and asked us to repack our bags. In Auckland Airport, they weigh all our carry-on before entering the immigration area.

...in search of Kiwi

1^st Sept 2012, about 7.40 am New Zealand time, somewhere in the air between Auckland and Melbourne on DJ165 Virgin Australia flight. The first day of spring but still very cold. We had some good weather while in Auckland, cold but sunny, with a little bit of overcast sky and some very light shower.

It was really a “flying visit”, just four nights, arriving late in the evening on a Tuesday.
We stayed at a 2-bedroom apartment on Albert Street right in the CBD, 10 minutes walk from the waterfront. “Where are all the people?”, Jillian had wondered as we walked the North Pier after dinner. The restaurants scarcely had any diners and hardly anyone was walking around (it was just too cold, even for the locals?). Shops close at 6 pm and they chase you out on the dot – “you can come back tomorrow”, they tell you nicely. Don't worry if you need beer and bananas, there are convenience shops everywhere amd "bottle shops".

Well, that was tuesday night. Last night was different. Last night was friday and friday is when the locals come out to party. There were even screams and laughter from one of the apartments on our 15th floor (still going on at 3.30 am when we left the apartment for the airport). New Zealanders are like their Aussie neighbours – they drink a lot. And they stay up all night. We checked out of the apartment at 3.30 am this morning to catch the 6.30 am flight and saw groups of people walking around- saw a young chappy without his shirt, crying on the phone and walking outside in the cold; saw an Asian lady and her boyfriend come in, she in party dress without a coat. Yah, some of these girls are really into the partying thing – we had three layers of clothes and still felt cold but these girls had thin skimpy mini-dresses and were walking around like it was midnite in Penang. Alcohol consumption is a problem and the signs are obvious. Along some streets, there are signs on the lampposts warning severe penalties for drinking on those streets – liquor ban is enforced on certain streets – hmm, we don't even have to do that in Malaysia, not that the locals in Penang or KL don't drink like crazy. Of course they do, but they do it in the coffeeshops (for the cheap version) or pubs and then they drive themselves home, once in a while crashing. Huey tells me that in Melbourne the Booze Patrol would randomly stop motorists on the highways to take the breathe test. Here in Auckland, we saw cabs all lined up on the streets, especially near nightclubs and pubs, waiting to take the happy drunkards home. The legal age limit is 20 years to drink (or buy alcohol) and the New Zealanders just defeated a proposal to reduce it to 18 years. They even check for ID at restaurants that serve alcohol. They didn't check Jillian's çause she was with parents. Oh, but don't get this idea that you will see who bunch of drunkards walking around in the middle of the night. I think most drinkers are well behaved.

What does this say of Auckland? It's a nice city of more than a million people, though the newer architecture isn't stunning. It's very clean and the air is absolutely fresh. It isn't very touristy, meaning, tourists won't find many things to do, unless you like gambling then you have the SkyCity casinos, full of old and young. We lost $8 on the 2 cents slot machines – and got bored (or cold feet). It's a lovely city to just relax and walk. We visited the Auckland Art Gallery and loved the architecture of the modern wing and a few of the exhibits. We visited the Auckland Domain with a museum set in a very nice park with a winter garden. The natural history section of the museum is nice but can't beat the one in Chicago – but still, it's nice. Locals go in for free. Everyone else is asked to pay a suggested $10 donation. There were three of us. The lady hinted “it's just a donation” - and then asked “$30 or $20” - what would you say?

Enjoying the exuberance of spring in Albert Park, Auckland

We paid homage to the usual suggested places, including a walk along Parnell Road, an old suburb revitalised and we loved some of the spaces around the old buildings and had a lovely Japanese lunch. We then hopped on the Green Bus (the Green Line, really) and paid $1.90 to get to K-Road to check out the fuss. Lots of restaurants and shops, but just another shopping street, that's all. We then walked to the SkyCity bus terminal to book our day trip to Rotorua. Then walked to the Victoria Market – eh, if you are going the next couple of months, forget it, its under major restoration and the few shops there are not worth the long walk. For dinner that night, we wondered over to the Britomart area. Claims about many shops in the recently restored heritage area attracted us but they looked unappealing … so, we ended up in a Chinese Restaurant. The roast duck was good so was the vegetarian hot pot but the char siew was flat (the style is similar to Australia; not charred enough). The restaurant got an obnoxious sign on the door which says “cash only” and to leave no doubts what they mean, it says “No cash out”. Maybe it's a cultural thing – probably perfectly normal in China. {But we had small debate in Melbourne with Huey and others about what it really means}

So, that's it. That's everything you would want to do in Auckland city.

The grass always seems greener on the other side, Auckland Domain

So, next day, we took the ferry to Waiheke Island. It was that or Rangitoto Island where the only thing you do is climb a tiny volcano. Waiheke is wine country. People go there to relax, taste some wine, eat some fish and chips and walk on the beach. You will need to take the bus or join the tours – the island is quite big. We spent some time at Oneroa, a tiny town, chilling out on the very cold beach (funny, huh?) and then coffee and fish and chips and some soup and corn fritters and, very important, free WiFi. There's lots of restaurants with views of the ocean here but not much to shop. Waiheke is famous for its Chardonnay so we headed further in, on the bus (to a place near the museum about 20 minutes away), to see what the fuss is all about. The first surprise is that if you want to taste wine, you don't just stand around and the staff will start pouring your free flow of wine. They give you a wine list with prices on it. $3 per tasting for most, $5 for the more expensive ones. We bought a Chardonnay for dinner in Melbourne tonight - $45 a bottle, a reasonably expensive wine, I should think, to welcome us back to Melbourne are 11 years. {Unfortunately the pizza place we had dinner did not allow BYOB, bring you own wine, so it came back with us to Penang}

The grass is still greener here, Waiheke Island wineyard

 Then we asked the waitress what time is the next bus? She looked at her watch - “Now”. I stared at her.  “In 10 minutes”. Bus after that? “In one hour. You better run. But if you miss the bus you can come back for more wine”. So, we practically ran to the bus stop, just in time as the bus pulled up. Lesson learnt? Next time, ask the bus driver for the next bus going back. The return ferry fare was $35 each.

For dinner we took a bus from Britomart (the new transport centre for Auckland) to Mission Bay. It's something like Gurney Drive without the hawkers and congestion and super-condos. There must about 20 or so restaurants with a wide range of food. We chose a Belgian restaurant, mainly because I was having a moment about mussels. It offered a variety of mussels and I was telling my travelling mates about a dinner in Halifax where you order a main course and for appertiser you can eat as much steamed mussels as you like, with your choice of dips. So we ordered one kilo of mussels, a lamb shank, caesar salad without the chicken, and chowder. Plus cocktails, a ladies beer and a couple of man's beer! And we also finished all the food. It's the cold weather which gives you more appetite. If we had ordered half a kilo of mussels, it would have been just nice but I was a little bit kiasu (half a kilo of mussel is $17 while one kilo is a bargain at $23; how much would you order?). Dinner was followed by Swiss ice-cream and a walk along the waterfront. And then the bus back, only the three of us all the way to town, about 20 or 30 minutes away.

We did the city. We did the islands and ferries. So next was the mountains and rolling hills. We booked a guided tour after debating whether to rent a car or just take the bus (without the tour). If you want our advice, take the tour. You get running commentary – not just on history and culture but investment, buying a house in New Zealand, politics and much more. I think three quarters of the time we were not listening to the continuous chattering (and the driver knows it, and asked whether he should shut up; we said to chatter on). The bus takes on a country road with very nice rolling green hills with the obligatory sheeps and cows. The weather was beautiful – clear sky with some clouds for special effects, bright and sunny, cold but not wet. The driver said the previous day it was pouring. We were given muffins for breakfast, sandwiches for lunch with an apple, and then another sandwich just before the return trip. The last sandwich was cold but delicious.

The first stop was the world famous (I bet they are world famous) Glowworms at Waitomo limestone caves. The limestone formation wasn't that impressive (nice but not stunning). The worms was worth the very short boat ride. They are a little like the fireflies but they glow not to attract mates. They are only 3 mm long and secrete long strings (of saliva?) to trap insects attracted by the lights (in a totally dark cave) and then pull the insects in to enjoy a hearty meal. When they are adults (looks like a mosquito) they live for only 2 days, solely to have sex. Yah, okay, to propagate the species. they don't even have a mouth. How many are there in the caves? I asked the guide. Millions, I ventured. According to the guide, just 4,000 in that particular cave. About 20,000 in the whole area. I was a little concerned about over population so I asked about predators. Spiders, the guide said. And other insects. I wanted to ask about inbreeding, you know, because they seemed to be confined to a dark cave, but thought, hmm, probably not a problem for this prehistoric creatures.

The great news is that the government has returned the land on which the caves are located to the original tribal people and many of the staff are descendants of these ancestors. What about excavation and extraction of minerals from the caves? Strictly prohibited, even though the land owners also own what is beneath the surface, including the caves. It's good to know we did our small part to keep natural resources in the ground. Entrance fees are pricey, like $70 - $90. Visiting the caves is only one of the adventures awaiting – whitewater rafting, exploring caves … next visit! BTW, Waitomo means "water entering a hole in the ground" - that's in Maori.

Waitomo cave, picture taken by the staff and superimposed.

Those strings are from the glowworms but we saw much shorter version. These must be enlarged for visibility.

 The second stop was the Agrodome – a working farm with real professional farmers but they put on a side show for tourists. Good money there with busloads of tourists. Tourism is the second must important industry in New Zealand after farming. It's quite a spectacle when our carriage pulled by a farm tractor approached the animals. All the chickens, and ducks and ostrich and sheeps and llamas run towards us quacking, bleating and making all the appropriate animals noises. The first time we saw it, we didn't know what was happening. To them, carriage-loads of tourists means happy days again. They probably do it many many times a day.

[4^th September 2012, Tuesday morning 10.30 am Malaysian time, on flight D7214 from Melbourne to KL. Had to stop the blogging when the batteries ran out on the plane]

{Firstly, a note about the catering on AirAsia. The one in KL is hopeless but the one in Melbourne does a fair good job. We finished all the three packs of food on this Melbourne-KL leg. I look out the window and see wide expanse of land, coloured brown with what looks like streams and very large water bodies. But there are no green, no vegetation. I wonder if they are natural and just very sparse or denuded by men from mining activities.}

The animal farm visit was good because it let us stretch and do things and the animals were more than obliging, eating out of our hands and leaving yucky stuff on them in appreciation. Then there's the show with the very disciplined and highly-trained shepherd's dog, rounding up the sheeps. And of course, the shearing of the sheep. The guy tried to be entertaining, and some times it was funny, like how he held the sheep quiet between his legs and tried to make the sheep look cute. When the sheep is sheared, it looks really naked. It seems that it's skin doubles in thickness within 24 hours to compensate. The coat grows back and is ready for another hairdo in 6 months. Some one mentioned that these sheeps now will not survive without the regular haircut (the body will get too warm).

The last stop was the Whakere, a Maori cultural centre plus hotspring with geysers. We thought the traditional welcome ceremony and dance was a little understated, mechanical and weird (says Jillian). Perhaps they are a little fatigued doing in many times a day.

Fortunately, we arrived just as the geyser (Prince of Wales) was just warming up for a show. It reminded me of the Old Faithful at the Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming - we had sat there waiting for an hour but it gave us only a mediocre sprout. This one at Whakere did not disappoint and sprayed droplets quite a distance away – I thought it was starting to rain. Unfortunately, the guide was bugged by the driver to keep us marching as we had to make it back to Auckland by 8 pm. It would have been nice to just sit and watch the geyser for a while longer.

Prince of Wales geyser, Whakere, Rotorua

 Ah, but we did get to see the Kiwi. Actually, two of them. In captivity in a dark display area (I think they call it the Kiwi House). Kiwis are a small bird, the size of a small chicken, with round body, small head and a long beak. Before there were men on the islands of New Zealand, the Kiwis roamed freely without threat from predators. So, they were free as a bird, so to speak and adapted to the environment. Eventually, they lost their ability to fly – they got rid of their wings. But men came and preyed on them. And men brought other animals which also preyed on them. So, Kiwis are now considered an extinct species. You won't find them in the wild anymore.

To enjoy New Zealand, you really have to get out of the city. I would have loved to spend 2 weeks, travelling north to south. So, that's in the pipeline. When I retire.

Malaysians coming to New Zealand for short visits can get visa on arrival. The check-in clerk at the Melbourne Airport had warned us that the Immigration in Auckland would not allow us in if we cannot show proof of return flight ticket. Huh, immigration in Auckland was a breeze - the officer did not bother to ask fro evidence of return ticket. I think we were out of the airport in less than 10 minutes. The airport was really deserted. Where were the tourists?

Melbourne on the other hand is a busy busy busy airport. You need to allow about an hour to clear immigration, collect your check-in bags and then queue some more to clear customs. If you declare that you have brought in food stuff, you then queue again for snoopy to sniff you out.

We flew in to Melbourne, arrived about 8:30 in the morning and caught the flight out on Air New Zealand (coach-sharing with Virgin Australia) on the 11:45 am flight. There was enough time to connect comfortably. AirAsia does not allow you to check-through your luggage so we had to go through immigration (having to explain to the officer why), get the bag, clear customs and then check-in again, security, immigration … not much fun. So, poor Huey didn't get to eat Penang's famous tambun biscuit because we didn't want to be held up at customs for bringing food.

For more photos, visit my facebook album.