Getting lucky... in Dunedin

"Forbid that I should walk through the beautiful world with unseeing eyes...

Forbid that under the low roof of workshop, office or study I should ever forget the great overarching sky.

John Baillie (an extract from "A Word Fitly Written" which we came across when wandering the Glenfalloch Woodland Gardens).

I think it sunk in this morning.

We woke up in our campervan facing the St Clair beach in the coastal town of Dunedin, to the sound of waves gently crashing - if it’s possible to crash in such a manner; the tide repeatedly pouring itself over the wet sand as if trying, in vain, to mop up a spilt cafe latte. The sun was high in the sky, fighting the wind for the part of protagonist, just about winning, most of the time. So, obviously we couldn’t resist running in to the transparent sea, and obviously it was freezing cold. But, as we shrieked at how we could see our feet perfectly, (yet no longer feel them) it sunk in:

It was Monday morning, and we were swimming in the sea. In New Zealand.

Although hard to believe, the purpose of this post is not (purely) to make everyone feel suitably jealous. Rather, it’s to remind us how easy it is to become desensitised when travelling for long periods of time, especially in a place like New Zealand where the landscape is so picturesque. The tall trees reflected in turquoise lakes can all begin to blur into one another to a point where your eyes become so accustomed to seeing beautiful scenery that it stops being given the attention it deserves. Sometimes it’s important to just take a step back and realise what you have in front of you.

As day crept into dusk, heavy grey rainclouds began to loom over us like roman statues in the sky, and our earlier madness in the sea seemed like a lie. It seems the changing weather is a British tradition that New Zealand decided to keep. So, we drove in the drizzle to the north of Dunedin, to see yellow-eyed penguins, the most endangered of the world’s seventeen species. We learnt all about what makes these particular penguins unique, the strangest fact being that they are anti-social penguins, and therefore don’t fish together or even mingle with one another, preferring to, instead, keep themselves to themselves in a forest environment. Seeing them in the wild, scattered around groups of furry seals and sea-lions was pretty awesome, and is something you should definitely do if you find yourself in this part of the country.

Check out Isma’s fantastic pictures here, and remember to stop and take a minute to appreciate your surroundings or circumstances, no matter where you are in the world…

Guess what I found out in Dunedin?

1. Although a lot of penguins die of starvation, the yellow-eyed penguin can live up to around 20 years; the oldest recorded yellow-eyed penguin was in its early thirties - like me!

2. The yellow-eyed penguin is the only type that raises two chicks - other penguins tend to use one of the chicks to trick predators, but only keep one. This year was unfortunately one of the most disastrous breeding seasons in recent years due to penguins laying their eggs two weeks too late. The farm we visited therefore had a rehabilitation centre where they were nursing sick penguins back into the wild.

3. A rather cut-throat natural selection process, only 30% of yellow-eyed penguins actually succeed during the fledging period. 70% are simply unable to cope in the big, bad world…