Tag Archives: Scenery

Wellington Wildlife

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Thursday 26 February 2026, evening – Having relaxed a while after our peregrinations around the waterfront, it was time to gird our loins to go out and Be Educated. We had a private guided twilight tour of Zealandia. I knew that this was some kind of a wildlife experience, but little more than that. I wondered, frankly, what kind of wildlife one could expect within a seven-minute drive of the centre of a capital city, but realised that the best time to see any was probably as the daylight ended. So, we rocked up at 6.15 ready to see what could be seen.

Our guide was Matt, and he was ably assisted by a volunteer, Sharon, one of the over 500 that make a huge contribution to the place. They were both knowledgeable and passionate about what Zealandia is for. And, after a short biosecurity check to make sure we weren’t harbouring any unwelcome critters in our bags or on our shoes, Matt showed us into a small theatre so we could watch an introductory video. This set out to compress a thousand years into about eight minutes, and it covered the impact of humans on the poor unfortunate animals which had the bad luck to have evolved entirely separately from any mammals of any pith or moment for the eighty million years or so since Zealandia (the continental chunk) had split from Gondwana (the great lump at the bottom of the early Earth which spawned the continents as we know them today).

The human impact is not inconsiderable. For once, the blame can’t be laid entirely at the door of modern humankind; the damage was started when the Polynesians arrived with their crops and their livestock, and immediately began competing with the indigenous animals for resources. The rate of damage was accelerated by the arrival of the Europeans with their extra pests (such as stoats, weasels and, it has to be said, hedgehogs) and vermin such as rats. Flightless, ground-nesting birds and lizards, whose main survival strategy was to remain still, didn’t stand a chance, particularly when the forests they lived in were chopped down and replaced with fields and Monterey pine. So, starting about thirty years ago, the people behind Zealandia (the wildlife reserve) conceived a mission to take a 225-hectare patch of land which was little-used, having been largely set aside for a drinking water reservoir, and attempt to return it to what it must have been before the arrival of humans – and then use it as a basis for educating people and attempting to re-establish the connection between people and nature.

We were equipped with red light torches, and the four of us spent the next three hours wandering through the area. There’s a predator-and-pest excluding airlock arrangement of doors to minimise the chance of incursion of unwelcome creatures, and the whole area is surrounded by a fence which has been carefully designed to keep out as many of them as possible.

It’s not mouse-proof, apparently, but other tactics, mainly traps, have eradicated the mice. The team there are perpetually on the lookout for incursions and the possible causes of them (e.g. a tree falling on the fence) and they do manage to keep on top of the predator and pest problems.

A Silvereye obligingly paused to pose for us in a nearby tree

and as we walked out over what used to be one of the drinking water reservoirs, we saw some pied shags

and a diving duck.

It was actually very difficult to see many of the birds in the trees, although one could hear them all around,

and a special “bird call” station had been set up

so that one could listen to the calls of various birds that one might encounter – including the spotted kiwi which can be found in Zealandia after dark – if you’re lucky.

The next creatures we came across were tuataras.

Tagging is used to track the creatures

They look like lizards, but this is New Zealand, remember? So they’re not. The tuatara is the only extant member of a distinct lineage, the previously highly diverse order Rhynchocephalia. So now you know.

New Zealand has a native parrot, called the kākā (pronounced “carcar”). Some can be found in Zealandia, where special feeders, that only the kākā are strong and smart enough to open, are maintained.

A North Island robin was pecking around to pick up any scraps that the parrots dropped,

as were a few California quail, a species introduced as game birds and now flourishing in New Zealand.

They’re considered harmless and do the same job as the (now extinct) native quails, so they’re free to come and go to Zealandia as they will.

Another large bird is the New Zealand wood pigeon, which is the world’s largest pigeon. It’s known for eating over-ripe and fermenting berries from the karaka tree and getting drunk as a result.  We were lucky enough to come across one which was having a feast and demonstrating its ability to eat the berries whole; it’s the only bird large enough to do this.

We trekked up a steepish path to the upper dam

which gave us insight into how close we were to “civilisation”,

and where Matt and Sharon

declared a tea break and served an infusion of the leaves of the kawakawa plant, a herbal remedy well-known for its analgesic and anaesthetic properties, with lemongrass and ginger.

After this point, photography became quite difficult, as it was getting dark and the red torches had to be used to see anything. The only way to view photos taken under this light is to remove all the colour.  So, we could see this little gecko

but you’ll only get a b&w photo. Same for this highly attractive gherkin slug

and an animal that Jane really wanted to see – a giant weta.

These really are quite huge and, at over an ounce in weight (30g in new money) are among the heaviest insects in the world. Sharon also found us a Maud Island frog, one of the rarest frogs in the world, but you’ll have to take my word for that because it was too dark to get a photo. It’s a frog, but has very unfrog-like behaviour: it doesn’t croak; it doesn’t hop; it doesn’t have webbed toes; it doesn’t have a tadpole stage. It spends its entire life within a four square metre area, largely being stationary and trying not to be spotted by predators.

We had one final treat, a hint of which I can bring you courtesy of Jane’s swiftness with her phone. We saw a kiwi!

It was completely dark by then and only visible for an instant, but Jane managed to capture it. I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to, so for once in my life I just watched, rather than trying to photograph.

I know. Extraordinary, eh?

So it was a late night, and we had to get up exceedingly early for the next day’s activity…

Friday 26 February 2026 …0530, to be precise, because we were going to be picked up at around 7am for a transfer to our day’s activity – a visit to Kapiti Island, a nature reserve which is accessed, as I understood it, by a ferry running from Paraparaumu, which is about 40 minutes’ drive up the coast from Wellington. So it was that a nice gentleman called Peter turned up in a nice BMW to whizz us along. There was one other passenger, a Danish chap called Torben.

We arrived in Paraparaumu with plenty of time for the 0845 departure and checked in at the office of Kapiti Island Nature Tours. We did the biosecurity check thing and they walked us around the corner to a cafe where we were treated to a coffee and a scone. Jane took the opportunity to go to the loo in the cafe, which had some very amusing decor.

It was at that point that things began to get a little weird.  We were given directions to walk along the road a spell and then turn left on to the beach to meet our boat. So the three of us, Jane, Torben and I, walked along and eventually spotted what looked like a path down to the beach, where we could see what looked like a small boat. What I hadn’t expected was this.

That was our transport over to Kapiti Island. It was efficiently, but informally, equipped and run.

The tractor just backed into the water (people sitting at the rear were warned to hold up their bags in case of incoming seawater) and the boat simply lifted off it

and set off for a swift transit.  It stopped at two points, Rangatira Bay in the middle of the island and Waiorua Bay at the north end, which is where we disembarked.

We were on a day trip, but others were staying overnight.  We were greeted (in Māori) by Pania

whose family, it transpired, owned a chunk of the island and who would be our host for the day.

She led us up to a shelter where she briefed us on how the day would work

and nearby which were a couple of toilets.

Pania’s briefing was interesting, engaging and entertaining, as she described the history of the island and how it was immigrated by Polynesians (her ancestors among them) who started shaping the land to their ends and then adopted quite a lot of European imports, such as sheep and, interestingly, written language, as they came along. (Before writing, Polynesians had only an oral tradition and sculpture carving as a means to preserving their culture; written language they found very useful for passing messages between specific members of different tribes.) Her family resisted efforts by the white New Zealand authorities to take over the island, and so have ended up with some private land on the island and guardianship of the nature reserve there. They have made strong efforts to rid the island of invasive pests and predators: goats were removed in 1928; cats in 1935; possums by 1986, by the use of a blanket poisoning technique for the whole area except one protected spot; and rats by 1996.

She then led us on the first part of a walk around that part of the island we could reach on foot, pointing out a few things of interest as she went. For example, one might have expected these holes in the path to be made by ants,

but this is New Zealand, remember? Nothing is normal, and these are actually the homes of individual bees. They’re not like honey bees at all; they look more like flies and they only produce honey to feed their own offspring, rather than for a hive.

It was daytime, so no chance of seeing any kiwis, but Pania showed us a couple of burrows,

and then set us free to walk along the trails we could reach. There were only two; a circular one to a western lookout, and a there-and-back to a northern one. We carried on along the circular route, with me lugging the Big Lens in the hope that I might get some prized photos of the local birdlife.

Nope.

We walked for 5km along well-formed tracks,

past some admittedly handsome views

and some pest traps

in pleasantly rain-free weather. In total, I saw one black bird swoop from left to right across the track, and a pair of brown ones flit from right to left. And that was it. We could hear that there were hundred, possibly thousands of birds around us, but I think they were mocking us. They certainly weren’t showing themselves.

We got to the lookout which had, as one might expect, some decent views

and then, after a short rest, walked the rest of the loop

before heading to the lodge where overnight guests had been staying

for some lunch in the lounge area.

It was a good lunch, too; chef Ben

did a great job.

You can tell from the photo above that bird photography from the day was not an entire dead loss, as there were some photo opportunities waiting for us there with some sort of semi-tame birds nearby. Of particular interest for Jane were a pair of Takahē, the largest member of the rail family. Ben above is feeding the female, and this is the male of the pair.

There was also a Weka, (also members of the Rail family) scouting around doing its scavenging thing.

(I have video, but once you’ve seen one bird pecking around, you’ve seen ’em all, really).  Finally, a Tūī settled for an instant on a branch nearby,

and that was it for the bird photography for the day.

Shortly thereafter, it was time to catch the “ferry” back to Paraparaumu, so we went to the beach to watch its arrival. The docking is not subtle; the skipper basically rams the beach, and the first mate, who’s a strong lad, manhandles a ramp down for the passengers.

The journey back was really quite rough, with the skipper taking no prisoners when it came to leaping the waves. It was reminiscent of our return from the Daymaniyat Islands in Oman, only a little drier and with a bit less feeling of impending doom. He managed to fit the boat into its cradle remarkably smoothly and that was the end of the crossing.

Peter was on the beach to greet us and take us back to our hotels, and that was it for the day, really. The Kapiti Island experience was enjoyable – a pleasant hike and a decent lunch, but photographically less rewarding than I’d hoped.

Indeed, that was it for our time in Wellington; the morrow sees us depart the North Island for, erm, the South Island. Well, there’s not a lot of choice of destinations easily reached from the North Island; we’ll be visiting the third New Zealand Island in due course, but you’ll have to stay tuned to learn more about that and, indeed, everything that happens to us on the Other Bits of New Zealand.

 

 

 

 

 

Gannets – The End Of Napier Show

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Tuesday 24 February 2026 – The activity scheduled for us on our itinerary today was an opportunity to go and see a gannet colony at a headland south of Napier intriguingly called Cape Kidnappers; the expedition was called a “Gannet Safari”, which seemed to be over-egging it somewhat. The idea, it seemed, is that we would be picked up, bussed out to see some gannets and then bussed back again; I wasn’t quite sure where the safari bit fitted in, somehow. Anyway, it was an opportunity to get the Big Lens out, for the first time this trip. I was glad to do so, having lugged the damn’ thing around for over two weeks already.

There had been some confusion about where we should be and when in order to be picked up – was it really necessary to get to the pick-up point in downtown Napier 45 minutes before the appointed time? The answer turned out to be no, and in any case the redoubtable Esther had contacted the Gannet Safari organisation and told them to pull their finger out got them to agree to pick us up at our accommodation. Accordingly, a pick-up bus turned up outside our front door and we hopped on. I had expected it to go via the downtown pick-up point, but actually it just turned round and headed directly out of town. The driver, a very affable chap called Pete, took us to the HQ of Gannet Central

where the safari message was clearly reinforced, and we eventually joined a group who got on a bus

driven by Pete, which was the transport to where the gannets were. As we went, Pete explained how the day would work, and also pointed out a few sights as we went past them. It would apparently be a three-hour excursion, and I was wondering how on earth one could make gannets, lovely things as they undoubtedly are, interesting for three whole hours.

After a short drive on normal roads, the safari element of the excursion was borne in on us; Pete turned off on to a very rough track, signposted “Cape Kidnappers”, which led on to private land, a whole estate with a farm, a golf course and luxury lodges. This is surrounded by a predator-proof fence and is also a nature reserve with a number of indigenous species thriving – including kiwis.

We passed some feral goats

and some great scenery

before Pete stopped at a cliff edge to brief us further.

He told us a story about a rockfall which had happened on the cliffs behind him

and explained that we would have about 45 minutes to view the gannets once we reached the colony. As we carried on, he gave us some information about the gannets, their reproduction cycle and migration. We would be seeing Australasian Gannets, adults and juveniles alike. The adults were able to fly, however the juveniles at this stage could not, but could be seen flapping their wings as part of getting in shape for when they were able to fly. At which point they would migrate some considerable distance – maybe as far as Australia. In order to do this, each juvenile, having been born weighing about 60g, would have to be fed a huge amount of fish by its parents in order for it to develop to a weight of about 3kg; it would end up weighing more than its parents because it needed the extra bulk to sustain it on its long migration while learning to feed effectively.

The track to get out to the colony was very rough and up-and-down and it became clear that the bus was quite a robust piece of kit, having four-wheel drive and a low ratio gear box to be able to cope with conditions. There was, incidentally, a second Gannet Safari bus tagging along as part of this trip – probably a couple of dozen guests in total.

This stopping point was an opportunity to appreciate more great scenery

the peace and quiet of which was disturbed by some very considerable mooing of cattle in the distance. I wanted to capture this on video

but couldn’t do so because there was too much chatting going on between the people in the group. I suffer for my art, you know.

The track led us down to where the cattle were

and we carried on to where we would be able to watch the gannets. Cape Kidnappers was named by Captain Cook, after an incident in which local Māoris had kidnapped a Tahitian boy crew member, thinking that they were liberating a Māori prisoner taken by Cook’s crew. The lad escaped OK and made it back to Endeavour, and the headland was thus christened.

Overall, it was quite a journey to get to the birds, which explained why three hours were set aside for 45 minutes of gannet watching. I wasn’t sure what to expect: would we be on shore watching them diving? Would they be visible only in the distance?

As it turned out, no.

We could get very close to them and they completely ignored us (indeed, we had to duck as they flew by on occasions). There were lots and lots and lots of them;

probably around 5,000 – and that was just this colony; there were three others in the vicinity, too,


but ours was the accessible one.

There were adults

and juveniles.

The adults bond, by and large, for life, and normally produce one egg per year in spring, giving the chick time to develop enough in order to take on the migration as autumn comes. Some adults, though, had laid a second egg. We saw one which was incubating an egg

though it didn’t oblige us by giving us a decent chance to take a photo of it. We also saw a recently-hatched chick,

This one, sadly, would not have time to fledge before it was time for their parents to leave, and so would almost certainly die. With that, and the uncertainties of the challenging migration, Pete said that only about 25 or 30% of chicks reached maturity.

One human-caused survival challenge for the birds had been substantially dealt with – predators such as cats, stoats and weasels. There were many traps set about the place and, in this private landscape, the problem had largely been solved.

We saw some examples of courting behaviour and feeding of juveniles, and these are included in this short video that I was able to produced from our visit.

After this absorbing morning, Pete drove us back to our accommodation and we were able to relax for an hour or two. Then we popped along the prom to take a look at the outside of the National Aquarium, which was just a short walk away. Pete had been somewhat dismissive of the exhibits inside, and anyway Jane was really only interested in the mural which adorns it and, indeed, surrounds practically the whole building. Here are a couple of photos of part of it, to give you an idea.

When we returned to our accommodation, we went and sat in the back yard in the hope that we could meet other guests there and, OK officer I’ll come quietly, have a drink or two. Two new arrivals were already there and over the next hour or so all the other guests came out and we had a pleasant chat with them – six Americans and two Swiss – with Esther and Tom making sure that we had snacks and refreshment.

For our dinner, we’d booked a restaurant recommended by Esther, the Central Fire Station. This was located, intuitively enough, in the old central fire station building which we’d seen on our walking tour yesterday; and a very good recommendation it turned out to be. It was conveniently about a 15-minute walk away, so we were able to walk dinner off as we headed back to 415. On the way, Jane spotted some street art

(again, nice decoration for public toilets), and, in investigating that, we saw other examples around, mainly, we thought, left over from the “Sea Walls” festivals which ran in Napier in 2016 and 2017. So, of course, we had to take some photos of these other murals.

And so has ended our time in Napier. We have to leave tomorrow, and head towards Wellington. In a way, we’re rather sad; we’ve thoroughly enjoyed our time at 415 Marine Parade, which is a very comfortable, well-run and amiable place to stay. But leave we must. En route tomorrow, we call in to visit someone I haven’t seen for over 20 years. I wonder how that will go?

Taking a Deco at Napier

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Monday 23 February 2026 – Astonishingly, our legs were up to the task of getting us out of bed and heaving us about as we packed and set up our departure on the next segment of our trip – destination Napier, the Art Deco city.  But we didn’t head off directly, as we had two things to do beforehand. The first was coffee and, handily, Waimarino’s railway station

has a cafe, which serves damn’ fine coffee.

Fortified, or at least caffeinated, we headed off in the general direction, not of Napier, but of Horopito, some fifteen minutes’ drive away, because we had one of those assignations that come about through serendipity. Bur first we had another couple of rail landmarks to explore, starting with the Makatote Viaduct, built between 1905 and 1908, and, at the time, the tallest viaduct in New Zealand – the last construction on the North Island trunk railway.

Just up the road from the viaduct is The Last Spike Memorial, which marks the location where the “last spike” was driven in 1908 for the completion of that North Island Trunk line.

Then, on to Horopito for our serendipity-led encounter. Here’s how it came about:

  • Forty years ago, I lived in Sweden, and, at the exceedingly popular Stockholm pub, the Tudor Arms, met Karin, with whom I have been in contact ever since.
  • Three years ago, Karin walked the Camino de Santiago from France to Spain. Not too long afterwards, Jane and I did the same, adding that significant activity to the bonds between us.
  • One year ago, Karin walked the Camino de Santiago again, and met Jess, who lives in Horopito.  Jess became part of Karin’s Camino Family, sustained through the medium of WhatsApp (as well as drinking and eating in Spain).
  • Two weeks ago, Jess hiked the Tongariro Crossing, just as we had a couple of days ago.

So the various tendrils of internet connectivity and social media reached out between three disparate pockets of people and Jess and we had agreed to meet. The original plan was to get together the evening after we had completed our Crossing, but we were utterly knackered, and thus completely incapable of socialising; and so we deferred until yesterday, which worked well, since Horopito is pretty much on the route between Waimarino and Napier.

We had a really lovely time meeting Jess and her husband Ian at their wonderful place, which is sufficiently far off the beaten track that the road to it is not quite sealed all the way. They showed us around some of their 15 acres, and particularly introduced us to their alpacas, which had been brought in as lawn managers (and had just been shorn).

After that delightful encounter, we headed off to Napier.  We passed a signpost to Horopito’s motor museum

but we’re not sure that it’s actually in operation as a museum, as such.

Heading east to Napier, there is a choice between two routes – the main road, which means heading back through Taurangi, or the direct route across the hills in between, a road which Ian had insisted we drive for the scenery and which our Tongariro guide Simon said he thought was “probably sealed” (i.e. tarmac as opposed to a dirt road). Since Tomtom agreed with this assessment, we headed along it. And we were very glad we did. The scenery was fantastic for the whole trip, which should have taken some three hours but ended up being nearer four, as we kept stopping to gawp at (and, of course, photograph) the landscapes we passed.

As we started, the scenery was typical, lovely, North Island landscapes.

The middle section of the route led through more mountainous surroundings.

which were heavily planted with Monterey pine trees, with clear evidence of both logging and replanting.

and then we emerged back into the less hilly and more pastoral plains of the east coast

before reaching Napier, approaching along Marine Parade.

Out accommodation was at 415 Marine Parade,

which is a very classy and well-run B&B. We were greeted by Tom, who showed us into our large and comfortable room and made sure we knew how things worked (including a very neat electronic access arrangement).

One thing we hadn’t appreciated until we arrived there was that the day we arrived, Sunday 22 February, was the last day of the 2026 Napier Art Deco Festival, a major event appreciating the history of the city and its recovery in the aftermath of the huge earthquake which hit it in February 1933. There had been thousands of people from all over the globe visiting the city as part of this celebration (more of which later) and we were a bit worried that we’d not be able to get in to any local restaurant. We were therefore pleased to be able to find a table at the restaurant next door, the Marine Bistro. There, we had a very tasty meal, and a lovely encounter with five ladies who had been celebrating as part of the Festival and who had dressed up to match the vibe of the entire thing,

After eating, we thought it would be a good idea to understand where we would need to meet for our planned activities in Napier, so we went for a walk. Obviously.

Downtown Napier is about a kilometre from 415 Marine Parade, and the walk gave us a chance to get our bearings, to see some of the art deco architecture for which the town in famed (much more of that later),

and a few other highlights, particularly vehicles which had clearly been part of the Festival activities,

and some of the attractive older (non-deco) buildings,

some of which were thoughtfully decorated.

That was yesterday; today we headed once again to downtown Napier to join a walking tour that was intended to give us a greater insight into the art deco history of the place. The meeting place was the headquarters of the Art Deco Trust, which hosts the walking tours which we were about to join, and also stages vintage car tours

with suitably-dressed drivers.

We started in a small theatre in the Trust’s building on Memorial Square

where our guide, Bev, gave us a short introductory speech before showing us a video about the 1933 earthquake which has caused the birth of the city as it is known today. Before the film, she showed a map comparing pre- and post-earthquake Napier, and the difference between the two is utter.

Here’s that map in more detail.

The town of Napier is mid-right in both maps; but in the pre-earthquake map you can see that there was was once a large lagoon north-west of the town. During the earthquake, the ground rose by as much as two metres, and the lagoon emptied out into the sea – a pretty cataclysmic event, which I simply hadn’t appreciated, and with a consequent loss of over 250 lives – New Zealand’s deadliest natural disaster. The video showed some of the scenes of the time.

You can see the boats now on dry land because of the rise in ground level, as well as the devastation caused by the earthquake – no electricity, no roads, no rails reached the town, and the water supply was cut, which meant that the fire brigade had no water supply to try to put out the inevitable fire which followed the shocks (they tried pumping sea water, but shingle jammed the pumps).  The final picture shows “Tin Town”, an array of 54 shops eventually set up under a tin roof in Clive Square to service the needs of citizens – actually New Zealand’s first shopping mall!

Bev went into some detail after the film about the heroic response of military and civil organisations to support the town in its hour of need. Particularly important was support from a naval ship. The death toll might have been much higher had the Royal Navy ship HMS Veronica not been in port at the time. Within minutes of the shock the Veronica had sent radio messages asking for help. The sailors joined survivors to fight the fires, rescue trapped people and help give them medical treatment. The Veronica’s radio was used to transmit news of the disaster to the outside world and to seek assistance.

The New Zealand government quickly realised that the Napier borough council would be overwhelmed with organising any rebuild and appointed two commissioners for this task, John Barton and Lachlan Bain Campbell. Between them, they shepherded through an astonishing building programme, which evaluated the different ways that buildings should be constructed in future to be earthquake-proof: brick buildings had collapsed and wooden ones had burnt, and reinforced concrete was selected as the material to be used as the basis for construction. Part of this lesson came from the Public Trust Office building,

a reinforced concrete edifice which was the only major building still standing after the earthquake.

The result is the town as it is today, or rather city – it was made a city in 1951. Rather than rebuild the Victorian-era structures that had been there, the modern styles of the day were adopted. Bev showed us examples of the four different architectural templates that were used in the rebuild:

Spanish mission; Prairie style; Deco Moderne; and Stripped Classical. These are these days grouped together under the “Art Deco” style label that applies to key Napier buildings. So then Bev led us on a tour of some of these buildings.

Central Fire Station
Municipal Theatre
Daily Telegraph offices. The Telegraph managed to print a daily bulletin after the earthquake
Demonstrating chamfered corners (greater traffic visibility) and cable-supported verandas (more fireproof than wood pillars)
Actually a modern replacement of a deco building which was torn down despite citizen protest
Example of a “double eyebrowed” building, with two ledges behind which windows are recessed.

Bev showed us many of the other architectural flourishes involved in the reconstruction effort, such as some of the original mosaic street names in the sidewalks,

other mosaic entrances to shops,

a couple of building interiors

and a couple of statues.

Sheila, on the left, is a statue of the daughter of a key architect in the rebuild, Ernest Williams, who was the Carnival Queen in the very first Napier Carnival in 1933, staged to celebrate the success and speed of the rebuild as well as a tribute to those who lost their lives. She is waving to someone, and the someone is a boy who has climbed a lamppost on the opposite side of the street. These are recent statues, from 2010 and 2014 respectively.

Bev gave us, as is always the case with these tours, more information than I can remember or that I can cram into a post such as this, but I hope it gives you a flavour of the town and why it is what it is.

We saw a few other quirks, such as Theatre Lane, which has some street art. This is a little bit of it

but it carries on the whole length

and at the far end is a representation of film stars of the 30s and 40s.

It’s a bit difficult to distinguish them, but here, for example, is Harold Lloyd and his famous clock

Here ‘s the full list, in case you want to look for the details.

Among the last of the things that Bev showed us was a traffic light pedestrian crossing that showed, instead of the usual Red Man – Green Man, a version with Sheila walking her dog.

There was a lot more to see, including many period vehicles, mostly left over from the Festival

and, of course, the Town Train

We also looked in to the Municipal Theatre.

Tour over, we treated ourselves to coffee at an excellent coffee shop in Tennyson Street called Georgia

before taking in the Veronica Sun Bay, a tribute to HMS Veronica’s key role in aiding and assisting in the aftermath of the earthquake;

the name plate is the actual one that adorned the ship. Then we headed back to our accommodation, past a group of pre-earthquake buildings called the Six Sisters

for a bit of a rest, and a chat and drink with hosts Esther and Tom and the other guests. The day ended with another walk back to downtown Napier for a meal at K Kitchen, in the Masonic Hotel building (which you can see in the background of this memorial statue from the Boer War).

We have one more day in Napier which should be an opportunity for me to get out the Big Lens for the first time this trip. So do please come back to find out how it worked out.