
I have decided to kick start this travel blog again. It’s been over three months since I returned home after two months travelling and I’m going to write briefly on some big themes in my life and thinking, and hopefully in yours too. I hope you’ll tune in.
This one’s about a political perspective I have not seen covered in the media that I read and hear. I believe NZ has just made a seismic change in it’s social landscape and there’s no turning back. It’s happened suddenly but it’s been brewing for years. It’s a change that many are only starting to recognise as a phenomena. I think it is, and I think historians will make much of it in time. It’s not based on any empirical evidence or even research – it’s just my gut feeling.
I have the good fortune of being in a profession that allows me to meet dozens of new people every month, I listen to daytime Radio NZ, read the Herald, and of course I scan social media. This is partly about the result of the recent election and that clever, so very clever, articulate and impressive young women, Jacinda Adern. It’s about the Labour, Green, First alliance –and it’s about a solid wave of progressive policy being heralded in as I write. And it all makes sense to me, at last, some intelligent action on poverty, housing, water, transport, education, climate change – it’s going to be all change.
Most of the people I meet are quietly breathing a sigh of relief. A hopeless, nasty, irresponsible, gutless, do-nothing government has gone – but it’s not just gone, it’s completely dead in the water, it’s agenda is now irrelevant, completely tired and out-of-date. Even the previous Clark Labour government followed a neo-liberal agenda. I think that approach has lost it’s momentum after 20 years. It has proven to be so wrong – and we want nothing more to do with it. National survived on a web of PR spin and alliances with the media for years – but they have been rumbled as they say, they’ve been found out. The change that will now occur in this country is the subject of this blog.
To bravely generalise, I suggest there has there has been four social groups in New Zealand history – in very broad terms: Maori, The Landowners, The Workers and The Poor: the criminals, drunks, disabled, and the wretched.
I believe New Zealand has finally broken that mould. From the time of the first mass European migration in the mid 1800s we have built an economy that maintained and consolidated those four groups. I would like to expand on this, but to summarise my main point: those four social divisions that supported the ruling families are now redundant. They held the country back and caused so much unfairness, misery and wasted energy, and it consolidated wealth in the hands of a few. With Maori, landowners, workers and the poor – this is what happened.
1. Maori are increasingly empowered and progressive Pakeha have finally managed to build a consensus and momentum that has allowed the adoption of Maori culture as a part of mainstream thinking.
2. The Landowners were always the ruling elite. They were the politicians, the councillors, the farmers and the employers. Soon they will be paying more in wages and taxes because the wealth of the nation is going to be increasingly shared. Social democracy is now firmly on the agenda and the old ruling elite are having their assumed privilege challenged.
3. The workers: the farm labourers, servants and dock-workers have stopped tugging on their cloth caps and many have moved into the middle class. They no longer want to be subserviant; they’re tradies with new utes, they’re merchants and entrepreneurs. It’s been slow and many have been left behind like care workers, cleaners and rural workers, but minimum wages have been increased and the Unions have been emboldened – and there’s even talk of a universal wage. In short, there’s a consensus now that everyone can and should live a good life, be educated, get free health care, and have a voice.
4. The poor, we’ve always had them and even accepted it as the price you pay for progress. A 5% unemployed threshold was once considered a part of good government. John Key once said, ‘People need to take responsibility for their choices in life.’ Meaning, if you’re poor, it’s your own fault. But now the miserable fringe of society have a big spot light on them and something is going to be done. Jacinda talks repeatedly about a nation that is kind and compassionate. The poor are not to be left on the margins, despised, feared and neglected and told to simply ‘go to WINZ’.
5. And lastly there’s a new category that barely existed 200 years ago: the other immigrants: Chinese, Korean, Taiwanese, Japanese, Indians, East Europeans and Mid Europeans. If they’re not educated and motivated, they’re enterprising and motivated. We are no longer a bi-cultural country, we are multi-cultural.
That’s it, my thought for today, I could expand on it, but that’s my gut feeling, the old New Zealand with its ruling elite and grateful workers has gone – we have made a big new step, a Michael Savage and a Norman Kirk step towards a country that is smarter, cleaner and fairer. I believe the rest of the world may be inspired by our example, if we follow through. But there’s work to be done because the decaying ideas of the wealthy and privileged, and the wanna-be’s to those ideas, are lurking, always lurking and grumbling in the wings – but I hope they’ll behave themselves for a while. Because now is a good time to be a New Zealander.


























After three full days in Vienna I got my bearings and some kind of feeling for the city. It’s quite dignified with less of the exuberance of the other cities I visited. It feels very safe and somewhat serious in a way. No citizen of Vienna will ever forget it was the place that Mozart, Strauss and Beethoven produced their masterpieces – the reminders are everywhere, gold statues, gold theatres and even the buskers on the streets play classical music.
All it took was a wiener schnitzel, some yoga and a bike ride to get into Vienna. It was never part of my wish list to visit this city – it just happened to be my departure point from Europe on my air ticket so I thought, why not. Arriving at night after 12 hours of travelling I had to summon the energy to figure out yet another public transport system, my fifth now not counting London and Paris that I have a basic knowledge of, but Vienna was a challenge.
The Lehrerhaus Pension is a budget hotel in the smelly old carpet style and there’s no atmosphere and nobody looks like they want to be here, especially the receptionist. They give you a bunch of keys, one for the front door, one for the internal door on your floor, one for the door to your room and one for a safety deposit box in your room.
Nearby is a hotel called The Rathaus, – glad I didn’t check in there.
The first job was to find a laundromat to wash and overdue bag of clothes. The receptionist sent me off in the wrong direction, when I eventually found it two hours later there was no attendant only a coin interface with all the instructions in German, of course. Having loaded up and paid my money the door wouldn’t latch shut properly and water was sloshing out. I couldn’t change machines without going off to get more coins, and it was Sunday and everything was shut. So I wedged a couple of empty plastic bottles in to hold the door shut. When I returned, the entire floor of the laundromat was covered in water and my clothes sat in a pool of water in the machine.


It’s amazing how a good meal, some exercise and some live music can change your whole outlook on life.


My preference would be to have the aft deck, where you’d spend a good deal of your time, with plenty of space and easily accessible to the interior. I’ve seen some with the aft on the same level as the interior, no steps. Some of them have too many steps in and out and that would be annoying after a while.









My experience of Paris this time was so different. I have no idea how I ended up wandering around with a guitar waiting for a bus at 2.30 in the morning.

I would recommend The Generator Hostels to anyone budget travelling in Europe, they’re a new approach to hostels and more like a hotel. They cost about NZ$60 a night. The big difference between these and the usual hostels is there’s no kitchen, no self-catering, no fridges, no food to be brought into the place (but people still do, of course, and take it to their rooms. But the rooms are cleaned everyday, so they’re keeping an eye on it). There is a $NZ14 breakfast available, which is probably better value than you’d get in the local street cafés because it’s self-serve which means you can load up for later. The rooms all have ensuites and the reception areas are very modern with spacious parts set aside on the ground floor with sofas, tables and chairs to hang out with your friends. Generator Hostels are the way of the future I think, they’re all over Europe, referred to as Designer Hostels. The wifi reception is strong everywhere and good in all the rooms – and there’s no password. My room had 3 other women already asleep in the room. There seems to be so many women travelling now, not just as couples but many solo and in pairs, and completely comfortable staying in mixed dorms that they can opt for and get slightly cheaper than a women’s dorm.
I was up and away at 8am before any of my room mates were awake and had a basic plan for the day. First, the nearby Sacre-Coeur for the big view, St Germaine-des-Pres for the street culture, Musée d’Orsay for some art, and to stand beneath the Tour Eiffel. But it didn’t go to plan. I must have taken the wrong streets up to the Basilique. I was wanting some breakfast but the streets were all just drab and faceless apartments – where were the quaint cafés with guys wearing Ray Ban Wayfarers and elegant women wafting perfume walking with poodles that I remembered from 20 years ago?
When I got there I was disappointed I couldn’t walk all the way around the Sacre-Coeur, it’s all gated and locked off, and the only big view available from the front steps didn’t include the Tour Eiffel! What’s the point of taking a photo of the Paris skyline from the top of a hill if you can’t get the Eiffel Tower in it! – ha ha <-;
So interesting going on the Metro again, I was amazed they still had the same system with the little paper tickets – I bought the 10 pack, as you do, and watched young guys jump over the turnstyles. I wondered at what age a bloke gives up doing that little athletic move. Other guys enter using the exit gate by reaching their hand around and pressing the button to open it. No wonder they have the Oyster card system in London.
Later, I returned to the hostel, the subway was getting really hot and crowded by now and I needed a break. The room was empty and I slept and showered and headed out again with my guitar to an open-mic night on the other side of Paris. When I finally got there the bar manager shrugged his shoulders – there’s was nothing going on. According to my Google search there are plenty on Tuesday and Wednesday night, of course – but only one on Lundi and that wasn’t happening.
The Tour Eiffel looks magnificent when up close, something I never did before. I came towards it from the 16th, west of the Seine across the Pont d’ Lena bridge to the 7th, unfortunately the gardens, the Parc du Champde Mars, wre fenced off. The Metro had stopped, the buses were few and far between, I waited nearly an hour and took a bus all the way across Paris (where would I be without Google maps with bus timetables). I finished the last part of my journey to the hostel with a $12 taxi – the only one I have taken so far on this trip. I didn’t feel all that concerned out late at night, I just figured another 2km walk down these streets holding an iPhone for the map with drunken kids and homeless people sleeping here and there, was just too much.
My journey involves a bus to Roanne, a train to Lyon, the TGV to Paris Charles de Galle, and a flight, and I needed to co-ordinate all those journey times. And of course I was looking for all the cheapest variables. There were no direct flights from Lyon to Vienna either, only ones going via other places and taking 10 hours. It may have been better to hire a car from Lyon to Vienna, I don’t know, but that would result in a different set of costs and issues – and might take two days. The only decent wifi I could do all this research was at the Office d’ Tourisime in the local village of Marcigny. It took me such a long time and they needed to close at 6pm but I continued outside sitting on the step.





A taste of the old Amsterdam last night when about forty horse-drawn carriages did their annual trot around the old town. Big, beautiful horses of every breed went past me in a parade of rolling antiques. From the sound all the horses were well-shod and looked well-groomed too and many with their manes plaitted, and the occupants were dressed in period clothes. It’s Saturday night and people are out eating in restaurants alongside the canal all cheering them on. The carriages are originals with examples from every period; heavy cart horses pulling heavy carriages, others pulling passenger coaches, light four-wheeled open rigs and lighter two wheeled traps or hansom cabs with a single horse. I thought it was a bit surreal with so many coming through one afer the other. I had been in Amsterdam for 5 days this was my last evening. I had spent so much time absorping all the amazing history of this place, and now I could really get a full sense of what it was like. Back in the day all the horse droppings were swept into the canals and of course the smell became a problem – probably everything got thrown in the canal, it was probably a big open sewer. Not now, it’s safe to swim in it, apparently, more than you can say about New Zealand rivers.
The Dutch were the most powerful traders on the globe with thousands of ships build in their massive ship yards going to every corner of the globe. Abel Tasman charting one section of coast of New Zealand. I even found the reference on an original globe in the Rijksmuseum. I’m not sure what section of coast that is – Banks Peninsula?
In Amsterdam the bike has absolute priority and it’s all enshrined in various laws – and it’s so much fun. There’s trams, bikes, pedestrians, cars, scooters all swerving around one another and happily co-existing in the same space. Surprisingly, there’s a very low rate of injury – it seems to works; people smile, call out, ring their bells and are so considerate. The locals who know exacly where they are going race along and shout out to you if you’re not over on the left. I found myself walking in bike lanes all the time and nearly run down a number of times. They say they hope to eliminate motor vehicles from the city completely one day.
I have added a pic that may not be clear but it shows a new project where they have blocked a 100 metre section of the canal, dug down to create three levels of parking for bikes and cars, and will rebuild the canal again on top – amazing.


People ask me how I can afford to travel for such a long time but I have managed to keep the costs quite low. I’ve planned in advance and I’ve made comfort compromises all along the way. It’s also cheaper to visit a number of places as part of a round trip than going to a series of places at separate times. In terms of planning, the first priority was to maintain the ongoing fixed costs at home then figure out how much I’d need on the journey. This would include local travel, accomodation and food, plus entry fees for the museums and galleries. I travel cheap because I sleep in hostels in 4 or 6 bed dorms, I seldom eat at restaurants and don’t drink alcohol. I take extra food from the free or low cost breakfasts at hostels and keep it for my lunch. I travel on public transport or hire a bike – never taxis or Ubers. I always look for the lowest cost option to get from the airport to the city centre. I’m able to walk with all my gear for 3 0r 4 kilometres. I carry a bottle of water and a nut and dried fruit mix for snacks that I buy at the supermarket. I buy muesli and a pottle of yoghurt to mix together for my breakfast if there’s no free one, and I only buy a coffee occasionally and I have a stash of tea bags. That’s how I travel cheap. The current hostel I’m in here in Amsterdam is the worst yet – the mattress is hard foam, the windows don’t open properly and my room mates come and go at all hours through the night. The wierdest one I had was two guys who arrived at 3am in my dorm with no luggage and slept in their clothes – what’s going on there?
Last night I played at The Temple Bar in Gamla Stan, the old town on a tiny island in central Stockholm. I just turned up with my guitar and the manager, Philip, who used to be a roadie said go ahead and mic-ed me up.
I haven’t done much practise lately and my voice is not all there but I was surprised how much material I could remember and played for about 40 minutes. As usual, I got the best response from Stand By Me and Many Rivers To Cross.



The scope of it is quite amazing with huge areas dedicated to lighting, kitchenware and storage, and there’s a team of people sitting at computers helping customers design their kitchens. I wasn’t there to buy but I took lots of photos and have plenty of ideas. It’s all about creative ways to optomise interior space. As the world becomes more crowded people need to look at ways to reduce their personal living space. I did buy a couple of small items and went to the exit at which point I had to walk through the warehouse area where all the flat packs are collected, then to the checkouts were there’s another bistro – coffe and food everywhere. So many staff, so well organised, so friendly. Sweden.
And as for Mike Hoskings saying NZers don’t like public transport. ‘because we like cars and cars need roads’. Someone needs to pour a bucket of cold water on his head and tell him to wake up. I wonder how much he donates to the National Party?
I registered for the Vansbro swim not just because I enjoy swimming long distances but because I thought it would be a good way to see another side of Swedish life, away from the

My accomodation was booked 6 months ago, there was nothing available in Vansbro even back then so I booked a place 18km out of town thinking there would be some kind of bus service or at least some other swimmers staying who I could get a lift with.

To get to the start of the swim you need to walk, it’s a track through the birch and pines alongside a railway line. They process about 6,500 swimmers that day by sending them off in waves of a hundred every 10 minutes, and each wave has a different coloured cap. My cap was pink but I never saw the gathering of ‘pink caps’ at my allocated time, only green caps. Suddenly they announced my name and country. It surprised me because the announcer had been speaking non-stop Swedish, and then I heard my name. He looked up and I waved both my arms, ‘I’m here!’ I then realised the pink caps were special entries of one some kind or another – another pink capped person had their birthday that day and they announced her too.


After changing at the Info Centre I went down the road to Smedbergsskolan School; a modern, clean, and again, well organised place with friendly helpful people, and was shown a room lined with fresh mattresses and new white duvees and pillows. I made my bed, lay down and fell asleep. It turned out we had only four people in our room. It was warm, dry and quiet – and, a bonus – breakfast was included in the price which was 390 krona, or about NZ$62.



My niece, Hanna, said New Zealanders have three ways to describe water temperature when taking a swim; “Bloody freezing, nice once you’re in, and beautiful”. It’s so true and today I’m feeling pretty proud, I swam in the Baltic Sea in the Swedish archipelago off the sland of Moja for a good 20 minutes out about 500 metres, in beautiful sunshine, which helps. Bloody freezing, but ok once you’re in.
Moja is at latitude 59.4º N, that’s closer to the North Pole than the Orkney Islands above Scotland at 58º N, and to give some perspective, London is at 51º.
The ferry stops at numerous islands very briefly to load and unload passengers. They use the front of the boat, it’s really quite clever, there’s no mooring ropes, they just bump the boat up to the jetty and pause there for a few minutes, roll a gantry out and in, then zoom off to the next island.





The day before I took a bike ride all the way around Sodermalm Island, one of the main islands of Stockholm. It took about 2 hours and people were all out in the sun – there’s even a small beach and the cutest caravan cafe I’ve ever seen.
Yesterday my phone battery went flat so I had to use a paper map and it was so easy. No fiddling around zooming in and out of a tiny screen. The maps and apps on the phone are brilliant tools but they give you so much more than you really. I have trouble seeing the important icons for the things I really need like the Metro stations among the clutter of other commercial locations like restaurants and shops that fill up the screen. I have switched between Maps and Google Maps to find the best and I think Maps is the quickest but the directions are so big they take up a third of the screen – I think Maps it was made for people in cars. Google Maps has more stuff but sometimes it’s far too much stuff. When you select a route in Google Maps it puts a dotted line right over the name of the street you need to go down and you spend so much time zooming in and out trying to read it. Finding where all the dropped pins are is a hassle. The phoneis an amazing asset in these unknown cities but you still need to flip over to other apps to see the metro map or the bus and train routes – flip, flip, fiddle, faddle – it was a such a nice break air to use a regular paper map – at a single glance I could see where I was, the direction I wanted to go and the all the nearest metro stops – and I could scribble on it. I was brought up using paper maps, from ordinance survey maps to the A-Z of London that I knew inside out – it was nice to use some old skills. In fact, I’ve now decided to best and most fun way to get around Stockholm is on a bike with a paper map.





A ferry ride took me to the Museum of Modern Art on a nearby island where, apart from the permanent exhibition, there was an exhibition of work by the architect, furniture and fabric designer Josef Frank.























The main problem is uploading images of course. I have a couple of hours before a flight to Stockholm here in Edinburgh. It’s an end of quaint country pubs and friendly locals with heavy accents to a modern metropolis.

Before I enter Scandinavia I must post a couple of images from my walks around the stone circles and ancient sites of Orkney. It’s not often I say to a bus driver, ‘Can you drop me off at the turnoff for the Stones of Stenness, please.’




I went on an official guided tour of the island that I had booked from New Zealand which included the World Heritage site of Scara Brae. Clive was the most boring person you could ever meet. The droned on like a newsreader doing the marine forecast, he didn’t have any personality and was painfully pedantic. For example, he stopped the van and spent 10 minutes explaining the military details of a British ship that was torpedoed in Scarpa Bayin WW2 . I have an interest in military history to some degree but the exact timing of the 3rd tordedo was starting to get to me. I guess some people are fascinated by this stuff, but not my group. I found the volunteer guides who walk around the sites were much more interesting and personable – these are representatives from Heritage Scotland.



I’ve been pretty lucky finding places to play some songs. I can Google Open Mics Nights, ask in a music store, spot a sign outside a bar, or like on the Islands of Orkney, just start chatting to people on the bus.

Two days previously I had to get up at 6am in Edinburgh to catch the 8.30am train to Inverness, and after a night in a 4 bed dorm in Inverness I rose at 5.30am to catch the 7am train to Thurso at the northern tip of Scotland. There didn’t seem to be a bus connection between Thurso and the ferry terminal at Scrabster so three of us decided to get a taxi to travel the 5 miles. The terminal was cold and had no facilities and the incoming ferry was late due to high seas. Three hours later we were in the warmth and comfort of a large NorthLink ferry to Stromness on Orkney Mainland. Arriving at 6pm there was a vicious northerly blowing and it was raining and we had to wait again in a bus shelter for the next bus. By the time I crossed the island to Kirkwall and checked into my room I was pretty worn out. I slept for an hour and headed to The Reel with my guitar to play with the Orkney locals and I was so pleased to play one of my songs.

















It’s an odd feeling sitting in a cafe looking out on Haddington Place in Central Edinburgh writing about Brixton because it’s feels so far away now. The crowds, the heat, the diversity, and so many people just milling about and hanging out on the streets. It was so hot you’d perspire just walking down the street – I like this warmth, actually. In Brixton it’s like being in another country – and I know there are racial problems but the more amazing thing is the tolerance and acceptance, at least on a surface level.




It’s been said before but it needs to be said again, getting to Heathrow is cheap, fast and reliable on the Underground and I wish Auckland Council and the Government had the collective vision to stop faffing around build a smart new fast train link from Auckland Airport to Britomart – it’s essential in big any city. Instead, we’re always stuck in traffic or crawling along with trucks around industrial areas of South Auckland – it’s pathetic. I have heard a rumour that a big part of the problem is that the trucking companies are big funders of the National Party and believe rail would undermine their dominance in the transport business. This is selfish thinking and a Governmnet or Council needs to rise above private business interests and have the guts to serve the needs of everyone, because so many people are travelling by air to and from New Zealand and they want to get to the airport on time without having to worry whether the motorway will be blocked, again. Terminal 5 at Heathrow is state-of-the-art terminal design. There is nothing to confuse anyone – plain signage, no advertising, no clutter, clear instructions and directions, and a layout that leads you where you need to go – brilliant design. The other airport I found good was Frankfurt which is beyond enormous – I must have walked 2 km in a big curve to contect between my flights. I have been trying to load more images to this post all morning but the wifi is very slow here at the hostel and I really need to get out and about now so will add more pics later. Also, sorry about the bad grammar, poor sentance contaruction and random syntax, was rushing, (Anne, please, I need you to proof read and sub edit).
For about six years I lived in a tiny flat 50 metres from Portobello Road in Notting Hill. It was the upper floor flat of an Edwardian building on Colville Terrace and the massive Saturday market was a highlight of my week, and yesterday I literally strolled down memory lane. Portobello Market was always a good place to meet new people and yesterday I had the some very interesting encounters. I was carrying a large pack because I had come directly from the Isle of Wight and wanted to find a place to stash it while I could mooch around. It was 11am and was getting up to 26º as I walked through the antique section at the upper part of the market – in so many ways it seemed the same as ever.

It was time to have something to eat so I and stopped at The Duke of Wellington, the closest pub to my old flat and once my local. They weren’t prepared to take care of my pack, so after a BLT and a coffee I continued on. I couldn’t believe my favourite crumbed German barbecued chicken was still there 20 years later. All the boutique shops had changed and many of the fruit and veg barrows had become nick-nack stalls. I continued under the Westway to Bonchurch Road where an old friend from back in the day used to lived – he may still live there, so I knocked on his door and a young woman opened it saying she’d never heard of Malcolm Jamieson but it wasn’t her flat because she was just looking after it. I left and was about to try the place next door and she opened a window and called out, ‘Are you a New Zealander?’ 











There’s a new play currently on at the National Theatre called Common about the fight in early-industrial Britain for retaining common land and yesterday in Ruskin Park I walked with Leo and saw a portrait in a pub celebrating the individuals who made it happen in the early 1800’s. Ruskin Park is in Denmark Hill near Brixton, it’s 36 acres with views back to the City – you can clearly see Big Ben and The London Eye. There are more parks in South London because South London developed later than the north side of the river and there was still time, back in those days, to establish them – and I feel New Zealand is now at that point. Leo, who I’m staying with, says it’s the one thing he finds little a depressing about New Zealand, everyone seems to is so obsessed with property prices. This must, in my opinion, have some effect on the provision for public space. Most of the green areas around where I live are sports grounds – wouldn’t it be good if we turned them back to parks?
Entrance is £16 and includes a headset and a very hi tech visual hand unit about the size of an iPhone 7 with videos and information that’s really easy to use. I normally hate these fiddley things with a commentary but some clever tech team has designed something quite amazing because you choose the bits you want to hear and there’s short videos.

I used my binoculars and learned the story of each panel in the main dome. Paul’s journey to Christianity and his spreading of the word. I have looked closely at a few ancient religious story panels recently and realise the faith was primarily based on a few clever conjuring tricks; getting bitten by a snake and not dying, making someone instantly blind, and curing a cripple (‘look he’s walking!’) is all the proof you need. One of the panels in the great dome shows Paul burning the books of other pagan belief structures of the time – way to go. Religious mythology aside you can’t help but be completely blown away by the architecture, art and music it produced – and I speak as a person who studied and still enjoys listening to Palestrina plainsong, that’s the spooky male-choir music they use all the way through movies like The DaVinci Code.
We sat in a place called Brixton Box, a cluster of containers around a court yard that’s definitely the hang out for the new young Brixton arrivées – arty and edgy, and a bit rough and ready. Brixton is still the same, lots of West Indian people
playing reggae, it’s still grubby, but lovely.






The guy behind the counter said, ‘You might like to try this’, went out to the back room and came back with a 1943 Gibson priced at US$11,000. I have never played an acoustic worth that much but today I played quite a few of expensive guitars, and yes, they all do sound different and they feel different too. My absolute favourite was a 1971 Gibson Dove with an ebony neck at US$2,700. It rang out beautifully, had plenty of bass depth and the neck felt so natural in my hand – it was perfect. Next he gave me a new Gibson L65, the neck was flatter, made for a smaller hand or a learner, but so easy to play and it sounded big and full, a real modern acoustic guitar, and only US$1,000. I visited Old Town Music on Burnside Rd where I tried a few Martins, Guilds and Taylors from $1,500 to $3,000 but none really impressed. They had a 1976 Gibson L200 (pictured), the famous acoustic Pete Townsend of The Who plays, a big jumbo body with a great thumping sound that’s ideal for stage playing when there’s a band – but at US$2,700 there was something wrong with the neck – it was a bit twisted so the action was too high at the 12th fret. One of the best guitars in the shop, to my taste, was a vintage Yamaha F30 for just US$750. I didn’t buy a guitar but I did buy a mic I’ve always needed, too pricey in New Zealand, a SM58 with a switch for US$100, and they gave me a free T’shirt.
Next it was Centaur Guitars on NE Sandy Rd and some of the finest acoustics I’ve seen and played. There is no hard-sell in these shops, they don’t hover around you, they just let you play and play – but, there is one rule, whatever you do, and there are signs up – DO NOT SING.





Oregon followed Colorado and Washington State in making the recreational use of cannabis legal and since then the cultivation of it has become big business. The ranch where I was staying is currently experimenting with the propagation of the plant and I was shown around their set up. There are many varieties with the most popular being Sativa and Indica, and it is this one that commands a higher price and the one they are focusing on. In the town of Bend in central Oregon with a population of about 80,000 there is already 14 stores exclusively selling pot. The price for the premium organic product is high, especially outside the September and October glut period when the outdoor crops are harvested. Outdoor product is known as ‘dirt-weed’: the set-up I was shown is growing indoors, a premium organic Indica sensimilla under special LEDs. The farmer I spoke to doesn’t smoke pot himself because he’s not really interested and hasn’t the time while running a busy farm with 31 horses along with his core business combining various silica and calcium powder ingredients to make the compound used to make plaster casts used in medical and dental applications – but that’s another story.

The Bent Wire Ranch has 31 horses, 3 goats, 6 dogs including a Great Dane and some chickens. They are involved in ethology; the study of animal behaviour, specifically, horses and hold regular training sessions and clinics on the property. People bring their horses and they work with them – it’s holistic and it all centres around the animal. Zeno, a trainer from France went into great detail of their methods. She says horses have riders forced on them when the horses are too young and not ready, like 3 years old and their backs can be damaged. She explained how the vertebrae in the back need to strengthen in muscle from 5 years and only ridden from the age of 7. She doesn’t accept the old myth of ‘breaking-in’ a horse saying its cruel and unproductive because the riding life of the horse is shortened. Instead, a horse needs to slowly build muscle between the vertebrae in the back. We walked around the ranch and she showed me some damaged horses.
The Ranch is a rest home for a few older horses, the oldest is 27 years, while other horses have come because they have been too difficult for their owners. I learned more about horses from Zeno in half an hour than ever knew before – and no, I didn’t go for a ride.
I was looking for some tea and some snacks for my hike. My host has three drawers of teas in their kitchen in every combination of fruit flavours but no black Ceylon tea. With a quick mental conversion I figure the costs of everything in Fred Meyer is about a third less than NZ, but there’s nothing I really need apart from nuts, fruit and tea.
On my hike in Shelving Park reserve I followed a trail through the trees alongside a river. The air smells of pines and there’s a fine dust in the breeze, it’s spring and about 24° C but apparently it’s going to be 29° later in the week. They tell me summers are blazing hot and there’s huge dumps of snow in winter here – seems I’ve come at a good time.