Final Reflections & Goodbye to the Southern Stars

I spent my last afternoon in New Zealand on the Banks Peninsula, a volcanic peninsula jutting into the Pacific Ocean just by Christchurch. I drove over the hills through pastures and paddocks to the town of Akaroa. Akaroa is a heavily French influenced harbor town, with a pretty view over the bay. I wandered around the town, looking at monuments and shops. Roses bloomed in all the gardens and French flags flew at many shops.

One difference that I’ve noticed between New Zealand and Australia is the prevalence of Maori culture. We learned in Australian Studies that because the Maori tribes were much more monocultural, they were able to join forces against the arriving Europeans, put up a more formidable resistance, and force a treaty. This, we learned, has led to greater rights for and acknowledgment of indigenous peoples in New Zealand than in Australia. I was still surprised to see how this worked out in modern-day life. Most places retain their Maori names, as do most native plants and animals. Elements of Maori legend were recounted at Weta Workshop, Doubtful Sound, and Franz Josef glacier. It gave New Zealand the sense of having a bit of culture that was fully its own rather than grafted in from the British colonists, and is noticeably different from what I experienced in Australia.

I think the love of mountains must run deep in my soul. Much as I loved Australia, I fell so much faster for the beautiful green hills of New Zealand, for the precipitous mountains, for the lakes and fertile fields in between. Perhaps it is also how very green and growing New Zealand is. It’s the sort of place I could dream of living in if it were closer to my family. But for now, this is the end. I am bidding goodbye to the southern stars, emblazoned on the flags of both Australia and New Zealand and painted on their night skies. Love to Australia, to the reef and the forests and the desert and the huge sky. Love to New Zealand, to the sheep and the lakes and the beautiful, beautiful mountains. ❤

It’s time for frog and toad to hit the road. (No, Dad, people don’t actually say that in Australia. I asked.)