Traveling on my same plane were two viola friends, Michael Palumbo who recently retired from Weber State, and Daphne Gerling who teaches at whichever university is in Denton, Texas. I was aware that Michael was on the same flight because I saw him sitting a few rows in front of me but on the other side of our huge plane; and Daphne also was aware that Michael was on the same flight, but she and I did not see each other until we were at the gate in Brisbane waiting for our next plane. So it would have been great if we could have shared a taxi--but honestly, I lost them! I had no clue where they were once I got in the long line through customs and immigration, So I got my own taxi. The driver, whose name was Andrew and whose accent sounded Eastern European and definitely not Kiwi, said it would take 19 minutes to our destination, and he was spot on.
The hotel looks more like an apartment building than a hotel. It was weird because they instructed very carefully to say the address, 120 The Terrace, and not the name of the the hotel, because there are two Quest Hotels on The Terrace. And indeed there are, and not too far from each other.
This is a shot of my hotel. There is a bed, a closet, a soft chair, a TV, a table with two chairs, a kitchen wall, and a tiny bathroom.
As I was sitting in my rather cold room (there is a radiator for warming) thinking about taking a nap, I realized that my hotel is only staffed from 7 AM to 7 PM. And I googled to see what time sunset would be (5:55 PM) which meant that I would be walking to my destination in the dark, so I decided I needed to do a dry run in the light. So I went to ask the desk attendant if she could tell me how to get to where I was going.
I was going here:
I had asked Daphne about this dinner, but she didn't know a thing about it. I had the vague notion that Kristopher, with whom Daphne and I were presenting on Tuesday, WAS going to the dinner. So I was surprised that Daphne knew nothing about it. I sent Claudine a text (she and her husband Mark have been in New Zealand for a week, recapturing the past since they lived in New Zealand for six months about six years ago) and she WAS going. Hard to figure out who was invited and who was not.
Notice the address: Shed 5, Queens Wharf, Wellington. Not much of an address. But Wendy, the desk attendant, knew right where it was, and marked up a map to show me how to get there. I came back to my room and googled it, but Google Maps had a different idea about how to get there. However, I decided to trust Wendy, because she lives here. The weird part of her directions was about going through buildings and using their elevators to get down to the next road. But indeed, that worked.
This was the destination:
And here are some sights I saw along the way. Which was a rainy way, as you can see by all the wet sidewalks and streets in the pictures:
So, it took me about a half hour to find my way there and back again. It was a bit scary when I got IN the elevator that would take me up to The Terrace, because I realized that I had NO IDEA which floor to get off on. Luckily, while I was standing inside the elevator unable to make it operate and unsure about which floor to ask for, someone called the elevator to the 40th floor, and that person told me that I needed to get off on the 7th floor. I had thought it was only a couple of floors up from the next street to The Terrace, but it was from the ground to seven.
I was super hungry. We had breakfast on the plane at about 6 AM Brisbane time (Ish) and I had not eaten since, so even though I was going to a three course meal that would start at 7 pm, I decided to stop at the little market near the hotel and get something to eat. I got a sausage roll which cost 2.50--the only other choice of "real food" was a chicken samosa which cost 4.50--and grabbed a bag of nuts for snacking. That brought the total up to almost 10.00. Expensive nuts!
Then I asked the desk attendant--a man this time--how I would get back in the hotel when I left, because if there is no attendant there at night, I realized they must lock the doors. Turns out my key fob opens the outer doors as well as operating the elevator. That is how they keep it secure at night. When I went to ask him, I found my friend Anna at the desk, so that was lovely. (Anna is from Auckland.) Now I know that someone I know is staying in the same hotel! I asked Anna if she was going to the event at 7 pm, but she knew nothing about it. "Maybe it is for the presenters," she said. But I already knew that was not true because Daphne didn't know about it.
I still am not sure how they decided who to invite. If they were inviting former conference hosts, that made sense because Jutta was there, and a few others, like Dorotea, for example. Maybe that explained Kristopher, because he is a future conference host, since he is hosting next year. But why Christine, who is presenting, but not Daphne, who is also presenting? I was sitting next to the first cellist of the symphony, Andrew, (who is from the UK and did his schooling at Harrow on the Hill--we had a lovely conversation) and his wife, who is a violist in the symphony. However they arrived at the guest list, it turns out that a donor who wished to remain anonymous wanted to sponsor a dinner, but had an amount to spend in mind, so somehow they invited people and I guess if you said yes, you were on the list, and if you said no, they looked for someone else to invite. Only one person did not show--the other side of me, as it turns out--and that was the head of the composition department at the university.
Well, it was great fun conversationally. In my corner, besides the cellist and violist, was a viola teacher, Roger Meyers, from another university in Texas (not Daphne's) who is a native Australian and who is a great conversationalist, another Andrew who teaches viola at a university in Malaysia, Elyse, one of the organizers who is doing her PhD here in Wellington but is from Florida, and the Bigelows.
We had a menu, with three choices for each of the three courses. First there were appetizers--we all got a roll and choices to go with that in the form of oil, vinegar, and some kind of artichokey-butter which was what I chose and was very good. The menu made me realize that I am a picky eater, even though I like to think I am not. I should have taken a picture of it, but I didn't.
For the first course, I was inclined to choose the bruschetta, until I saw caviar and a few other things that went with it that I really did not want to eat. But the other two choices also had things I did not want to eat! I decided the duck salad would be the easiest to pick and choose which things I wanted to eat and which I didn't. Even though duck would be something I would not want to eat. So that is what I had, and I mostly did not eat the duck part, though I did try it. And I still don't like duck. But the other parts of the salad were fine.
For the main course, the choices were fish or lamb or beef. I don't like any of those choices. So I decided on the fish since I was in New Zealand so I figured the fish would be good. I am sure New Zealand lamb would be excellent too, but I just am not a lamb eater. And actually, the fish was good. And I am honestly not sure what some of the vegetables were that went with it, but while some were flavours I could not identify, I did a good job on that plate compared to the one before it.
For dessert, I was happy to see a fruit and cheese plate, so I got that. I ate part of it. There was a big hunk of blue cheese which I am sure blue cheese lovers would have enjoyed, but I left that one alone.
So...that was dinner. Claudine and Mark said that their hotel, the Park, had an elevator that went up to The Terrace, so offered to walk with me, for which I was grateful, because it was 10:15 and very dark and rainy by the time we left. Their hotel is downhill from mine, so the level of The Terrace was not seven floors, like in the other building I went through. And I was so glad they offered that to me, because when I did my actual walk just before 7 PM, I had to go through a different building than the first time I did my walk, because the doors to the building I had gone through about 4 pm were locked and I had no fob to open the door. I was glad that Wendy, the desk attendant, had told me two buildings I could go through--the other one worked. But I was not sure if either building would have worked on the way back. So I was very happy that Claudine's building worked for me.
And that was it! I got home and fell exhausted into bed, and woke up at my usual 6:30, even though it is actually not the same 6:30 AM at all. The time kind of blows my mind. Like, I left the US at about midnight on Tuesday, but arrived at 7 AM on Thursday. Wednesday--just gone. Well, except for those 14 hours on the plane. Always in the dark. How is that even possible? We just drug the night along with us as we flew. Right now it is 8 AM on Friday, and the clock on my computer stubbornly remains in Utah time, so I know that it is 2 PM there. On Thursday. I try not to think about it. Kind of blows my mind.
The hotel looks more like an apartment building than a hotel. It was weird because they instructed very carefully to say the address, 120 The Terrace, and not the name of the the hotel, because there are two Quest Hotels on The Terrace. And indeed there are, and not too far from each other.
This is a shot of my hotel. There is a bed, a closet, a soft chair, a TV, a table with two chairs, a kitchen wall, and a tiny bathroom.
 |
| The kitchen wall. There are all the dishes in the cupboards, etc. Soap for the washing machine. It is all provided. Who knew? |
 |
| The tiny bathroom has all the necessities. |
I was going here:
Notice the address: Shed 5, Queens Wharf, Wellington. Not much of an address. But Wendy, the desk attendant, knew right where it was, and marked up a map to show me how to get there. I came back to my room and googled it, but Google Maps had a different idea about how to get there. However, I decided to trust Wendy, because she lives here. The weird part of her directions was about going through buildings and using their elevators to get down to the next road. But indeed, that worked.
This was the destination:
I was super hungry. We had breakfast on the plane at about 6 AM Brisbane time (Ish) and I had not eaten since, so even though I was going to a three course meal that would start at 7 pm, I decided to stop at the little market near the hotel and get something to eat. I got a sausage roll which cost 2.50--the only other choice of "real food" was a chicken samosa which cost 4.50--and grabbed a bag of nuts for snacking. That brought the total up to almost 10.00. Expensive nuts!
Then I asked the desk attendant--a man this time--how I would get back in the hotel when I left, because if there is no attendant there at night, I realized they must lock the doors. Turns out my key fob opens the outer doors as well as operating the elevator. That is how they keep it secure at night. When I went to ask him, I found my friend Anna at the desk, so that was lovely. (Anna is from Auckland.) Now I know that someone I know is staying in the same hotel! I asked Anna if she was going to the event at 7 pm, but she knew nothing about it. "Maybe it is for the presenters," she said. But I already knew that was not true because Daphne didn't know about it.
I still am not sure how they decided who to invite. If they were inviting former conference hosts, that made sense because Jutta was there, and a few others, like Dorotea, for example. Maybe that explained Kristopher, because he is a future conference host, since he is hosting next year. But why Christine, who is presenting, but not Daphne, who is also presenting? I was sitting next to the first cellist of the symphony, Andrew, (who is from the UK and did his schooling at Harrow on the Hill--we had a lovely conversation) and his wife, who is a violist in the symphony. However they arrived at the guest list, it turns out that a donor who wished to remain anonymous wanted to sponsor a dinner, but had an amount to spend in mind, so somehow they invited people and I guess if you said yes, you were on the list, and if you said no, they looked for someone else to invite. Only one person did not show--the other side of me, as it turns out--and that was the head of the composition department at the university.
Well, it was great fun conversationally. In my corner, besides the cellist and violist, was a viola teacher, Roger Meyers, from another university in Texas (not Daphne's) who is a native Australian and who is a great conversationalist, another Andrew who teaches viola at a university in Malaysia, Elyse, one of the organizers who is doing her PhD here in Wellington but is from Florida, and the Bigelows.
We had a menu, with three choices for each of the three courses. First there were appetizers--we all got a roll and choices to go with that in the form of oil, vinegar, and some kind of artichokey-butter which was what I chose and was very good. The menu made me realize that I am a picky eater, even though I like to think I am not. I should have taken a picture of it, but I didn't.
For the first course, I was inclined to choose the bruschetta, until I saw caviar and a few other things that went with it that I really did not want to eat. But the other two choices also had things I did not want to eat! I decided the duck salad would be the easiest to pick and choose which things I wanted to eat and which I didn't. Even though duck would be something I would not want to eat. So that is what I had, and I mostly did not eat the duck part, though I did try it. And I still don't like duck. But the other parts of the salad were fine.
For the main course, the choices were fish or lamb or beef. I don't like any of those choices. So I decided on the fish since I was in New Zealand so I figured the fish would be good. I am sure New Zealand lamb would be excellent too, but I just am not a lamb eater. And actually, the fish was good. And I am honestly not sure what some of the vegetables were that went with it, but while some were flavours I could not identify, I did a good job on that plate compared to the one before it.
For dessert, I was happy to see a fruit and cheese plate, so I got that. I ate part of it. There was a big hunk of blue cheese which I am sure blue cheese lovers would have enjoyed, but I left that one alone.
So...that was dinner. Claudine and Mark said that their hotel, the Park, had an elevator that went up to The Terrace, so offered to walk with me, for which I was grateful, because it was 10:15 and very dark and rainy by the time we left. Their hotel is downhill from mine, so the level of The Terrace was not seven floors, like in the other building I went through. And I was so glad they offered that to me, because when I did my actual walk just before 7 PM, I had to go through a different building than the first time I did my walk, because the doors to the building I had gone through about 4 pm were locked and I had no fob to open the door. I was glad that Wendy, the desk attendant, had told me two buildings I could go through--the other one worked. But I was not sure if either building would have worked on the way back. So I was very happy that Claudine's building worked for me.
And that was it! I got home and fell exhausted into bed, and woke up at my usual 6:30, even though it is actually not the same 6:30 AM at all. The time kind of blows my mind. Like, I left the US at about midnight on Tuesday, but arrived at 7 AM on Thursday. Wednesday--just gone. Well, except for those 14 hours on the plane. Always in the dark. How is that even possible? We just drug the night along with us as we flew. Right now it is 8 AM on Friday, and the clock on my computer stubbornly remains in Utah time, so I know that it is 2 PM there. On Thursday. I try not to think about it. Kind of blows my mind.
