Wales Invades New Plymouth

Saturday 24th September

Miraculously Amie slept through until 0445 when she wobbled her way through for an early morning chat - pretty one way at that time of the morning as you can imagine. She settled down to doze for a further two hours when the day began in earnest. She is a great character as this shot shows;-



Amie on the bounceline
Apparently the goggles were needed as it was a fantasy swimming pool

 God knows how we'll ever get the bounceline out of the garage and into the garden. John may have to reduce his erection (oooh-err missus!)

Head banger - almost literally

After some breakfast and a walk to get the paper, Amie and I gathered together the requisites for the traditional Saturday morning visit to Paraparaumu Beach and its ducks, market, playground and sausage sizzle. Amie loved feeding the ducks (not that there were many, the seagulls have been eating all the chicks so it seems, but we glossed over that) and spent ages on the swings and things. She had instant recall of the games we had played on our last visit in March which was pretty impressive, and put my failing memory on the spot. When we got back from the park, Daddy had arrived and Grandpa was partially relieved of responsibility. I felt really chuffed that I had been able to entertain her on my todd, and I gather from John that  my reward will be further baby-sitting sessions ( or is Amie really looking after me?) including attendance at her next ballet performance. The mind boggles.

We had some sandwiches for lunch and then John and I settled down to read the papers whilst Amie got some Disney time in on the telly. Magnaminous of us that, ceding the TV rights, but there was no footie on until early evening. The problem of what to cook for dinner was obviated by our deciding to nip down to The Waterfront for an early doors supper whilst watching England munch Romania. We used a GrabOne voucher (the Kiwi equivalent of Groupon) which gave us $50 of food and grog for $25 - an excellent money saving venture, especially so as they rounded our $58 bill down to $50 since they cocked up our food order a bit and kept us waiting. John and I didn't give a monkey's, we just ordered another jug of Sassy Red. Amie, bless her, played happily with the toys the bar provides for kids and was immaculately well-behaved. Back home at about 7 p.m. and Amie was tired out and went off to bed as good as gold.

After that it was the big one, crisps and beers were assembled and we joined the Kiwi nation to watch The All Blacks v France. The ABs were fantastic in the first half and looked every inch the favourites for the RWC. The Frogs were a bit light in manpower, but rallied a little in the second half to keep the score relatively respectable. Two happy bunnies hit the sack soon after the final whistle sounded.

Sunday 25th September.

After the traditional post-breakfast wander down to Lembas for some seriously good coffee, Grandpa donned his tourist hat and set off oop t'North for the next leg of his Cymru-athon. An easy drive in the morning sunshine brought him to Rangitikei Golf Club, a beautiful country course with excellent greens and fees payable via the honesty box. Rangitei proved more than a match for your author's measly golfing talents, so we'll draw a veil over that and move on quickly.

After a pie stop (a different brand to Mrs Mac's but an outstanding example of beef and mushroom crusty pastry goodness) I took a deviation from my planned route (wild, wild, I know but I can embrace spontaneity (if that's OK with you Our Mam?)) and went west of Mt. Taranaki / Egmont and followed the 'Surf Highway' along the coast to New Plymouth.

Surf beach sans surfers

Arriving in New Plymouth I stumbled upon our accommodation (amazingly the Kiwis can all spell acommodation (!) correctly which is a rarity in the UK) by accident rather than design, but given that the bustling port of NP is about the size of Braintree (of blessed memory), that was hardly surprising. The folks in The Flamingo were very welcoming, with a choice of slim or regular milk for the unit fridge (what the bloody hell did I care - it wasn't alcomilk was it!). The motel was classic Kiwi of the 1960s, but none the worse for that. Immaculately clean - the owner stooped to pick an errant piece of fluff off the lounge carpet with much tutting - I suspect the maid may have been shot in consequence - the unit had all one could wish for an overnight rugby stop viz. fridge, bottle opener and glasses. After settling in and getting the wi-fi running I set off to the waterside at Port Taranaki which was a short five minute drive away. I had the fish of the day (snapper) in a restaurant overlooking the sea called Bach and very good it was too. (note for non-kiwi speakers; Bach over here is pronounced batch being a rudimentary beachside dwelling and not to be confused with the Welsh Bach (baark = mate) or the hoity-toity Bach (bark) who was a deaf git what composed music, or even the Kensington "bahck later"  which means 'gone to winebar). A couple of beers with my meal and I was ready to slip into what was to prove a very comfortable bed and watch Scotland play like a bunch of clowns against an Argentinian side who were as one dimensional as a straight line.
The only disappointment of the day was that I had not seen Mt. Taranaki as it was shrouded in cloud ....... but I was not to be disappointed for long.

Monday 26th September - Match Day

After a really ace kip, I was up bright and early on a bright and beautiful day without a cloud in the sky.

I walked along the Coastal Walkway which extends for 12 km along the seafront and whilst searching for an early morning pie stop I looked up and there it was;-

Mount Taranaki

So wonderful. I'll let you have another look.

Quite pleased with that photo!
Note fir tree, Art Deco tower and large advert for AMI

How about having that as a backdrop to your life! Inspirational or what. I'm sure it's got loads of Maori folklore and spiritual significance, but to me it was just beautiful.

My next adventure was to bump into a film crew who interviewed me about RWC and that evening's game. I'm getting quite used to all this media exposure. They were a crew from ITV Wales doing a documentary for the Welsh Rugby Union. I doubt that a little fat bloke in a Wales jersey beaming his socks off whilst on his early morning pie patrol will make the silver screen, but who knows. Next up, who should I bump into but Shaun Edwards, the Welsh Defence Coach who was taking an early morning constitutional along the beach (or was he secretly looking for 22 beef, chilli and cheese pies for the lads?) He was nice and chatty and we spent a pleasant 5 minutes until he disappeared into the team hotel where our heroes were having a lie-in. Being New Zealand, there were no security goons around, and indeed there were Welsh fans staying in the same hotel.

Having devoured a pie (minced beef) and bought a toothbrush which were not untirely un-related exercises I wandered back to The Flamingo to read the paper in the sunshine of my unit's deck. On the way I passed The Wind Wand which is what passes for art in the Taranaki. It looks a bit like a pissed lollipop or a dick with the droop. Actually that's very unfair, it's a very clever piece of art/engineering designed by a chap called Len Lye as a 'tangible motion sculpture'. Poor old Len shuffled off this mortal coil before his creation was completed which was sad (there's a joke there about 'wouldn't let it lye' but I can't quite figure it out).

Photo taken later in the day (hence clouds) by John
He calls this the 'Red Wobbler' which I suspect is taking the piss

After a session with the paper it was off to the Airport (about 10 minutes out of town) to pick up John who was arriving from Wellington. Pick up was easy, and we were back at the motel by 1230. John dumped his stuff and we set off up the road to a local sports bar for lunch. As we walked along in our Welsh shirts we received numerous beeps and waves from passing traffic who (presumably) were happy to see us in their city. Waving back continuously was quite tiring; I don't think I'll become a queen (thank God for that - Ed.).
A very good lunch and a few jars later we headed back to The Flamingo to collect our tickets and headed off into town. There was a very interesting exhibition about Taranaki rugby in the Information Centre and we enjoyed looking at the memorabilia. With the sun beating down, we decided that an intake of liquid was required and repaired to a local tavern which also happened to be a TAB (State run betting shop). John decided to go for a punt and put $20 on Namibia scoring only one try at odds of about 3.5 to 1. As we walked through the streets of NP, now filling up with red shirts, we were treated to the sight and sound of a local Maori boy racer cruising the city in a souped-up jalopy with the windows down playing the Welsh National Anthem at full blast! Bizarre indeed, but much appreciated. We sat on the pavement in the beating sun outside a bar which greeted Welsh fans with the board shown below;-

Old Fart with welcome board

It was interesting to see their selection of Welsh celebrities. Working up from the bottom we have Tom Jones saying "crouch, touch, pause engage" which may well have been a catchphrase of his during the knicker-throwing years, Burly Chassis saying "good luck", Catherine Zeta Jones saying "Go the boys" and last, and by no means least Harry Secombe (for it is he) bidding us welcome. A great effort by the bar owners, but it's a little worrying that their top celeb is a man who has been dead these many long years. Perhaps he also still exists on the South Island? Come to think of it, his great baritone voice would serve well with Elvis and JC.

We set off then for the fanzone but,seeing a large conglomeration of red shirts, ended up at a Celtic Bar (an Irish Bar hedging its bets)  called Piggy Malone's. Great banter there, much singing and general craic. John met up with a chap who used to be the barrista at his local coffee shop, there with some Welsh guys and much bullshit was exchanged. At one point a young chap got up on a table and gave a superb rendition of "The Sloop John B", a song much loved by touring teams in the past. He had invented loads of topical verses (which actually rhymed and scanned) and the chorus ended with the words "with Sam the captain, we'll take the cup home "(bedooaa, bedooaa, etc.). Absolute mint, must find it on Youtube. After that it was time to wend our way to the stadium.

Father wending - Shorry Offisher!

Thoughtfully the local authority had laid a blue line from the boozer to the ground and here Ballingall Pere makes his unsteady way. Bloody difficult to keep upright when three sheets to the wind and balancing a portion of potato wedges and soured cream in the left hand! On the way we met some Frog fans from La Rochelle and they complimented me on my French which made me think of Mary. Excellent seats as always at the stadium. I'll not say much about the game, except that Wales annihilated poor old Namibia to the tune of a dozen tries (I think), despite going off the boil for the second quarter.

Four random Bobfacts;-

1. It was great when it was announced that "Namibia have won the toss, and elected to play towards the mountain" Mount Taranaki was clearly visible in the moonlight through one set of posts - an iconic image.
2. Good to see some proper terracing and fans leaning on the crush barriers. No all-seater nonsense in the 'Naki .
3. We sat next to a Taranaki dairy farmer who was good value. When a group of Welsh lads passed by dressed up as cows I remarked that "the cows are in" to which he replied "yes, Fresians". Now I'm not trying to imply that Taranaki Man is a bit fixated ..............
4. Had whitebait fritter (+ chips) as a snack halfway through the second half. Can't think there's a ground anywhere else in the world that would serve that as a snack.

Back on a bus (free, but a gold koha for God knows what) to Piggy Malone's, a few celebratory beers and much singing and then we walked back to the motel. On the way out of the pub John met a bloke who he'd played rugby with in Feilding when he first came to NZ. Small country eh - can't believe I haven't met someone I know yet!

A cracking evening followed by blissful sleep.