Signposts - a blog about Te Ara the Encyclopedia of New Zealand

Biking near Arrowtown in autumn

I have just undergone a major revolution in my view of the world. This is not about politics or religion or other important things such as food or clothes. It is about recreation. I have started to look upon biking as fun.

For some 60 years I have walked and I have biked. But when given a choice for relaxation I preferred walking. Walking along a track in the bush or on the tussock landscapes of this country is one of the great pleasures of life. It invites good conversation with mates and inspires creative thoughts.

In comparison, biking always seemed like hard, hard work. I biked purely because I wanted to get somewhere. Growing up in Christchurch, I would battle against those infernal easterlies as I biked to school or to sports games carrying huge bags of gear. I would arrive sweaty and grumpy.

More recently, I have biked to work, but only because it was cheaper and quicker than any other form of transport. And in Wellington the fierce westerlies and hills are minor challenges compared with the dangers of speeding cars who believe that cyclists have no place on the roads of the city. Every day I take my life in my hands.

As a walker, I used to mutter oaths against mountain bikers who came tearing down tracks at dangerous speeds forcing us trampers into the bushes and turning the tracks into muddy quagmire.  When I tried mountain biking myself I found it, quite frankly, scary. Biking as ‘fun’? – you must be joking.

This summer things changed. First we headed down to Geraldine intending to tramp in the Southern Alps.  We organised our packs, bought our supplies, and then waited for a clearing in the weather. It never came.  Looking into the high country we saw continual westerlies blowing up a storm. The rivers were high and a turgid grey. Call me a wuss, but we simply did not fancy days of getting drenched.

So what to do? Camp fever took hold. I yearned for exercise to strip off some of that Christmas flab. There was sunshine on the plains. Perhaps a bike ride was an option? It was a relatively new bike – good suspension, 30 gears. The first day I headed down a side road out of Geraldine. It was sealed but deserted, not a car in sight. There was a steady west wind blowing behind and before long I was racing along at about 40 kilometres per hour. The country was lush with patches of bush. I began to realise I was having fun. For the next few days, usually accompanied by Susan, to whom I had confided my new enthusiasm, we explored the hinterland – up into the foothills of the Alps for a break and a swim, down to a nice wine bar at the Ōpihi River.

Then this weekend we headed to Arrowtown.  Now we had a real choice – a walk into the magnificent hills behind Arrowtown, or hire a bike to explore the new bicycle tracks of the area? I had discovered that, as part of the New Zealand Cycle Trail, the Queenstown trail had just been opened (in September last year). This 110-kilometre-long trail goes along the river banks and over private land to link Queenstown with Gibbston and Arrowtown. A huge investment has gone into the trail, and riding it is a wonderful experience. On Saturday we followed first the Arrow River, then the Kawarau, before heading back alongside Lake Hayes with breathtaking views. We returned tired but thrilled.

The next day we had to choose again. Would the call of a walk in the woods be too strong; or would we put up with our aching bums and once more hire a bike and do another piece of the Queenstown cycle trail? It was no contest – the bike won out and this time we headed across beautiful country beside lines of wild roses, alongside the Shotover River and then another piece of the Kawarau before heading back cross-country. Boy it was fun.

What explains this revolution in attitudes?

• The provision of cycle trails away from the traffic is one thing.
• Good bikes with brakes that work, comfy seats and excellent gears, also helps.
• You can cover so much more beautiful country on bike than on foot, and around Queenstown there is an awful lot of fine country to see.
• And, I have to admit, as you get older the rhythmic movement of the bike is actually less strain on the body than pounding up a track on foot.

To be fair, the revolution is not total. There are times when biking uphill against a head wind still seems like very hard work indeed; and there is always the danger of hurtling headlong over the handlebars when the tyres get stuck in a rut. But, for the first time in my life, I have begun to think about biking as a real recreational option. So, next time you are looking for fun, try one of this country’s new cycle trails and join the revolution.

The Lovell-Smith family celebrate Christmas, 1915. Kate Sheppard is in the back row, second from left (click for image credit)

Hohoho, Merry Christmas everyone!

It be that time of the year again, when the pōhutukawa starts to flower, the barbecue comes out of the shed, the misty rain pours in and the shops fill up with a mixture of cheap gifts and cheaper tinsel.

As you can see, my attitude towards Christmas is possibly not all it should be – there does seem to be an incongruity here in having the office Grinch write the Merry Christmas blog. However, what I do love about Christmas is the enthusiasm that some people embrace it with – giant reindeer, flashing sparkling lights, window displays where everything that can possibly have a Santa hat is wearing a Santa hat. The oddest one of these I ever saw was a mannequin in a pharmacy shop in Timaru one year. She had one leg, a very short white uniform, suspenders and a Santa hat. Not sure what she was advertising – the mind boggles.

Santa parades are another event where colour, music and a general air of slight insanity comes out to play. These have been a part of children’s Christmases since the 1930s, such as the Hay’s Christmas parade, from a collection of Christmas parade images put together by Christchurch City Libraries. Their web page also includes a number of the traditional ‘children on Santa’s knee’ photographs, something we haven’t yet got on Te Ara.

Farmers (the department store) have been responsible for Christmas parades in Auckland for 78 years now (according to their website). They also used to own what many people referred to as ‘the creepy Santa’ with his winking eye and beckoning finger. This Santa was installed on the Farmers’ building from 1960. Eventually he ended up gracing the Whitcoulls building on Queen Street, and undergoing the giant fibreglass equivalent of plastic surgery to remove the eye and finger. He was even named the world’s creepiest Christmas ornament in 2011!

Even without the winking eye, however, not everyone is convinced about Santa. In this clip Santa is introduced to some newly arrived Tokelauan migrants, who have just moved to a small settlement near Te Puke. (Santa and his horse charge in around 1:41.)

What else – oh yes, the dreaded Christmas muzak. Enthusiasm doesn’t help with this one. Our new offices are opposite Midland Park, in central Wellington, which turns out to be a popular place for buskers and the Salvation Army, among others. Now if they sounded like the Tongan Methodist Choir that might be a different story, but as it is … there is a lot of stomping around the office some afternoons. At least I can escape to the newly re-opened National Library, whose Christmas tree this year is a very appropriate green stepladder covered in fairy lights.

The 'Campbell Choral' on Campbell Island, 1959 (click for image credit)

I’ll finish with one of my favourite images, for many reasons including the lovely printed fabric in the background, the Campbell Choral on Campbell Island in 1959. Not totally sure this was a Christmas choir, but it seems possible (the collection it’s from also features a Merry Christmas sign and a Merry Christmas pudding). We thought of the Campbell Island singers as a possible image for the Ministry Christmas card one year, but it didn’t fly. Not quite sure why, as it illustrates both culture (singing) and heritage (Kiwi men entertaining themselves on isolated windswept islands, with a bit of cross-dressing to liven things up).

From the Christmas Grinch of Te Ara, may you all have a happy holiday with a surfeit of good food, a minimum of family dramas, and (with any luck) some much-needed sunshine. See you again in January.

'Bare on the beach' at Papamoa (click for image credit)

The two new stories we publish today – Liquor laws and Naturism – were initially chosen because they seemed appropriate for the season. Christmas is a time when many of us indulge too much in spirituous drinks, and with the warm weather arriving it is obviously more inviting to take off your clothes.

But recent events have made these choices more relevant. Last week there was considerable debate about the right of a Tauranga naturist (or nudist as he would once have been known) to go jogging in the buff. He had been convicted of offensive behaviour but on appeal his right to run only in his running shoes was upheld. Our new story provides a fascinating context to this case. It shows that the movement for ‘Sun clubs’ or ‘Sunbathing associations’, as nudist groups were known at the time, emerged here in the 1930s. Today there are 17 clubs and over 1,600 members. Among the fascinating pursuits of this subculture is a ‘bare buns fun run’ and a game called miniten, which is played on a half-size tennis court using a double-sided wooden bat.

First night of 10 o'clock closing in 1967, Britannia hotel, Wellington (click for image credit)

Also last week, New Zealand’s Parliament passed three bills regulating alcohol consumption, which were a response to the Law Commission’s recommendations and sustained public debate about our drinking culture. As the Liquor laws story shows, in its over 150 years of existence New Zealand’s Parliament has been extraordinarily active in liquor legislation. In the early years the most conspicuous legislation was actually aimed at protecting Māori from the effects of one of Europe’s most distinctive customs. Then from about the 1870s legal restrictions began to be imposed on everyone as the temperance movement, which soon became a prohibition movement, took hold. Dancing girls were evicted from bars, barmaids abolished, some electorates went dry and six o’clock closing was introduced – at first as a temporary measure during the First World War, and in 1919 permanently. That year New Zealand missed out by only a few thousand votes from becoming completely dry.

Then the wheel turned. From the 1960s a gradual liberalisation of the liquor laws began, gathering pace with law changes in 1989 and 1999. They made alcohol easily available to people aged 18 and over at most places and at all hours. As more and more teenagers started to consume alcohol, especially with the introduction of RTDs (ready-to-drink alcoholic beverages) in 1996, society began to wonder if the wheel had turned too far. Pressure mounted for new restrictions, some of which were enacted last week. It is a tortuous and fascinating story, which tells us much about the social history of this country.

So, as you enjoy summer pleasures – which may include taking off your clothes on a deserted beach or quaffing champagne on Christmas Day – spare a moment to glance at these two stories and get a new perspective on your enjoyments.

In Te Ara, as in life, one thing leads to another, and the outcome is pleasantly uncertain.

A friend told me recently that a second-hand bookshop in town was selling the sheet music for a song called ‘Puhihuia’. He thought I’d be interested because I’d been researching a Māori legend about a pair of lovers named Ponga and Puhihuia. I went to the shop and bought the song for 20 bucks. That seemed pretty good for eight pages of sheet music from the 1940s, with the cover printed in a marvellously tacky typeface incorporating Māori designs.

The cover of the sheet music for 'Puhihuia'

The song had a pretty tune and lyrics that, like our national anthem, could be sung in either Māori or English. These showed me that it was indeed based on the legend I was interested in. The story had been collected (some say invented) in the early 19th century by the pioneering, and somewhat dodgy, ethnologist John White. He had grown up in the Hokianga from 1835 and spoke fluent Māori.

The introduction to 'Puhihuia'

Both the music and the lyrics were attributed to Mari Hamutana, a musician I’d never heard of. A bit of internet searching revealed that the name was a pseudonym for a Pākehā composer named Ruby King. She had been brought up in the King Country, the daughter of a schoolteacher, in the 1880s and, like John White, learned to speak Māori fluently. She wrote many songs in Māori and English, and some were broadcast on New Zealand radio. ‘Puhihuia’, her only published song, was also broadcast by the BBC in London in 1937. A Miss Eileen Driscoll of Wellington sang several Māori songs, including ‘Puhihuia’, on programmes beamed to Australia and Shanghai.

The sheet music for 'Puhihuia'

That’s about as far as I’ve got with this bit of pure and unplanned research, but if anyone can add more information on either this song or its composer, I’d be interested to hear it. In the meantime I’m thinking of passing ‘Puhihuia’ on to the ukulele orchestra that’s been formed here at work, in case they want to add this song to their repertoire.

Canterbury Provincial Buildings, begun in 1858 (click for image credit)

Every December Victoria University of Wellington’s Centre of Building Performance Research holds a one-day symposium that examines New Zealand’s built environment during a particular decade. This year it was the 1850s.

Each year I look forward to this symposium because most historians I meet are more interested in events that take place in built environments rather than the environments themselves. The symposium is therefore a chance to discuss ‘bricks and mortar’ – sometimes literally!

As a number of the speakers pointed out, the 1850s was important for the arrival of photography. For the first time we can see what buildings and places actually looked like, free from the modifying pencil or paintbrush of the artist: the rounded hills of Wellington, painted by the likes of Charles Heaphy in the 1840s, are now revealed as mountainous and rugged. Most speakers made liberal use of photos in their presentations, although due to the basic technology of the 1850s many of these lacked clarity. I can only give a brief account of some of the talks.

Sarah Caylor talked about shit in Wellington. She noted how in 17th-century London human excrement was collected at Dung Wharf on the Thames and then used as a fertiliser for market gardens on the city’s periphery. The same happened in 1850s Wellington, before being discontinued for public health reasons. She suggested it was time we returned to the sustainable practice.

Christine McCarthy examined the ‘V-hut’ as a temporary housing type, described by early settler Charlotte Godley as ‘all roof and no walls’. The building was closely (but not exclusively) associated with the Canterbury settlement, so it’s perhaps no surprise that the ‘Cardboard Cathedral’ currently arising in Christchurch is a V-hut writ large.

Peter Wood spoke about Tāmihana Te Rauparaha’s (long-demolished) house at Ōtaki. It was built beside its more famous neighbour, the Rangiātea Church. Like the church, it was a culturally hybrid building, containing both Pākehā and Māori elements. The verandah posts had figurative carvings and a carved beam. Wood suggested the verandah represented the threshold between a noa (profane) exterior and a tapu (sacred) interior.

In my session, I looked at the way the main towns moved past their frontier origins and became more city-like. I argued that Canterbury Provincial Buildings was the first New Zealand structure to go past the utilitarian architecture of the first settlers and introduce a style that was more intricate and sophisticated. It was our first ‘city building’. Ian Lochhead also examined the Provincial Council Buildings, or rather what remains of them following the 2011 earthquake. The magnificent council chamber collapsed in the quake, but he said there were high hopes it would be rebuilt. He showed us a poignant photograph of recovered blocks of stone laid out in numbered piles on the street. He then showed us a photograph taken 150 years before with some of the same stones sitting in the same place waiting to be shaped and put into place. We all got the Phoenix metaphor.

Other topics included: a history of Ahuriri in Napier, the historical archaeology of post-earthquake Christchurch and Wellington architects in the 1850s.

It was interesting to see how the digital age was changing research practice. The plethora of historical images online meant at least one speaker, whose whole presentation was based on an analysis of photographs, admitted he had never entered the doors of an archive. Most speakers had filled their PowerPoint presentations with jpeg images from digital archives. The online newspaper archive Papers Past was a pivotal source for many. The experience of tramping to a particular archive to work through mountains of files appears to be on the wane.

The event ended with the traditional stroll around the corner to Havana Bar, comprising two 19th-century workers’ cottages that could have been (but weren’t) erected in the 1850s. After a few ales and a lively discussion we agreed next year’s symposium will be on the 1880s.