Goin' South 2- Naughty and Nice in Nelson

Goin' South- Part 2
Naughty and Nice in Nelson
(cont'd)

At Accents on the Park ("flashpacker's")

We check into a "flashpacker's" (nice backpacker's) in Nelson called Accents on the Park. http://www.accentsonthepark.com/ Mellow, soulful music plays on hall speakers. Our beds are made up with sheets and laden with towels, neither of which we had to ask or pay extra for. After Wellywood Backpackers (a true "ratpacker's), this looks like the Ritz-Carlton. I pay $89 NZ/night, plus $6 for parking, which is about what I paid for a family room with scuffed walls and stained carpet at the Welly ratpacker's. An Irish woman at the counter checks us in. A sign says there's a movie downstairs tonight in the lounge. "What's the movie?" I ask. "Knocked Up," she replies. After putting the kids to bed, I creep downstairs to watch 15 minutes of Kathryn Heigl in labor -first, in a bathtub then, in the hospital. The movie's funny as hell, but I can't watch the birth thing right now. Too many memories. Later, while sleeping in a Christchurch motel, I'd have a nightmare I went to the doctor's and learned I was pregnant. Immaculate conception. At 40. Ugh.

I took the kids out for dinner down the street at a place called Mac's. Fiona and Finley were so wound up from the trip and full of energy after their car nap, I figured it best to eat outside. That was fine 'til wind kicked up, and drops of rain started falling. We moved inside to sit in a room featuring a moose's head enrobed in a knit stocking. Music's playing: "Hotel California," by The Eagles. The kids slide bacon from their B.L.T., leaving giant slabs of bread behind like starch debris. I slurp a brothy soup with chunks of fresh tomato and onions. Wash it down with not 1, but 2 glasses of Shiraz. It was just that kind of day. I'm reminded of why I drained a glass of wine nearly every night during the first 6 months of our travels. Adventuring with kids has been exciting, satisfying, stressful and exhausting. Now that we're settled, my alcohol consumption has taken a sharp dive, as has my blood pressure, I'm sure.

Eating at Mac's

We needed food we could cook the next day at the flashpacker's kitchen, so once again, it's 8 o'clock at night, and I'm dragging the kids through the Countdown grocery store. I grab fruit, beef and vegetables for stir fry, black bean sauce, plus Bugs 'N Mud cereal. And a bottle of Shiraz. Meanwhile, Fiona and Finley are kicking a wadded piece of paper like a soccer ball. They're running and sliding down aisle 6, then 5, then past the dairy counter. I hear Finley saying to Fiona, "Hey, watch this!" That's my cue to stomp from dairy to biscuits, where Finn's about to kick a goal, and Fiona's laying on the floor "Fiona!" I yell. "That's dirty! I know you're tired, but please, GET UP!" Countdown is blessedly empty at this hour.
The next day dawns overcast, windy and a bit chilly. Fiona and Finley are bouncing off the walls of our room and laughing like deranged hyenas. I take them downstairs for breakfast. While I pour cereal, they sit at a counter (called a "bench" here), and read signs on the wall. "Things to do on a rainy day," reads Fiona. They start pulling thumbtacks from the notice board. And making noise. Finley has 2 volumes: loud, and louder. It's not even 8 a.m., and I'm already going nuts. I can't believe I traveled for nearly 6 months with these guys, largely on my own. Time to spring hyenas from the cage.

Founder's Heritage Park, Nelson

Today, we'll visit Founders Heritage Park, after a couple detours. Detour #1: a store called Lustre, on Collingwood Street. The sign advertises jewelry and custom designs. I let the kids watch a movie on my iPod in the car while I browse. I can see them easily from the shop a couple dozen feet away. They're engrossed in "Monster House." Meanwhile, silver necklaces, earrings, rings and bracelets gleam from every corner of the shop. Pretty shiny things, pretty shiny things... Easy now, easy... You have only 1 neck, 10 fingers and 2 hands, I tell myself. And a finite amount of cash. There's that. Still, I can't resist the call of the paua shell. Found only in New Zealand, the shell shimmers with purple, green and blue iridescence. A circular paua ring with a hole in the center sings out, "Take me, I'm yours!" The man behind the counter introduces himself as Peter. "I make most of the paua shell jewelry. I can size anything" I try the ring. Way too big. "You have slender fingers. I'd have to make a new ring to fit your finger, instead of chopping down this one." Peter tells me he can do it before we leave town tomorrow morning. Sold.

paua shell ring

 Detour #2: I read a text message while stopped at one of Nelson's few traffic lights (most traffic control devices in NZ are roundabouts, not lights). It's from the Object of my Affliction (OMA, for short). I have to make a U-turn, anyways, to reach the heritage park, so I rationalize I might as well pull over to text. I'm laughing as I read and reply to the message. "What's so funny, Mommy?" asks Fiona. "Oh, my friend just sent me a joke,""It's about a chicken crossing the road to get to the feijoa," I say. It's a lame answer, but the best I can manage.
5 minutes later, we arrive at Founders Heritage Museum, a collection of old-tyme buildings including a church, print shop, dentist...http://www.nelsoncitycouncil.co.nz/welcome-to-founders/ We tour, eat lunch at the cafe (which includes a brewery – try the pale ale, or long black). Afterwards, we climb into the body of a Bristol Freighter plane. I try not to think about my phone, or the person sending all those messages. Failure. Massive failure. It's like trying not to think about pink elephants. Just don't think about pink elephants.

The wind's picking up, and it's still grey outside. Perfect museum day. I drive to WOW- the World of Wearable Art and Classic Cars Museum http://www.wowcars.co.nz/. It' a museum even kids love. Fiona, Finley and I initally looked at "The Neptune Nautica," a female mannequin wearing a bra made of wood, glass, copper, brass and leather. Finn got touchy-feely and amputated the lady's leg. "Finley!" I bark "You just pulled her leg off! Don't touch!" I shuffle the kids into the main WOW gallery, where mannequins on pedestals float on a stage, much like a fashion show. The "bizarre bra" category keeps recurring: There's the "Cactus Flower Bra;" the "Carmen Miranda Bra;" (complete with fake fruit); the "Hot Water Bottle Bra;" "Honeysuckle on These," which consists of flowers and hummingbirds hanging off the, uh, flowers; " and the "Flat as a pancake bra," made up of 2 stacks of flapjacks with blueberries on top. Entire ensembles look bizarre and wonderful, like "Put a Cork in It," where the bottoms of wine bottles serve as eyes, and a mouth is a wine bottle with a cork at the end. The mannequin's vest and skirt are Merlot-colored and decorated with cork. Sadly, photos are forbidden at WOW, so all I have are pictures of 3 bizarre bras inside the classic car half of the museum.

Weather's still cool and windy, so I indulge in retail therapy in downtown Nelson. Or try to. While I'm trying on clothes, Fiona and Finley are zooming around and around in the Postie clothing store on a toddler's plastic trike. I'd run out to stop them, but I'm topless. Pretty sure that wouldn't fly, even in laid-back Nelson.

Fiona, Finley and new friend, Matt, from Italy

Back at the flashpacker's kitchen, I jockey for counter space with 20-somethings while cooking beef stir fry with black bean sauce. I thought, "I wish the kitchen were emptier." Just then, a young guy with a mop of dark curly hair asks, "Are they your kids?" He's referring to the only children here, Fi and Finn, who are busy dis-assembling items on the bulletin board. The young guy introduces himself as Matt, from Italy. He tells me he has a 3-year-old and 4-year-old brother and sister. "They're who I miss most." Matt's been traveling 3 months, working sometimes for room and board. He says he grew up never knowing his father. My ears perk up. Since Sean's death, I've been especially interested in stories of fatherless kids (rather, kids who grew up largely without their father). How did their moms cope? How did those kids turn out? Matt says he wants to take his siblings traveling when they're older. "I think what you're doing is great," he says. "It makes me realize I could bring my brother and sister on a trip one day, too."
(to be continued...)