August job hunt

So, another month has flown by and it’s all down hill till Christmas!

It’s been a pretty crazy month for us here in Yellowknife. Following my work permit debacle in July, I’d been keeping a close eye on jobs back in NZ and ended up getting one.

I applied for and got a really good job here in Yellowknife at the Territorial Government, but running parallel to this was my New Zealand job application process. It was an uncanny series of events really.

Why don’t I relay them.

With a re-newed Canadian work permit in hand I applied for a good job here in Yellowknife. The job was with the Department of Transportation and would have included travel all over this vast territory. Based on what I’d heard about the Territorial Government’s (GNWT) “reverse discrimination” hiring policy (ie. as a friend who works in HR at the GNWT told me: if I was a middle aged, disabled native women going for a management job, I would have been a shoe in) I wasn’t counting my chickens.

One morning while having breakfast I heard a story on CBC radio about a recently released report essentially saying that if you weren’t from Yellowknife, and especially not from Canadian you basically didn’t stand a chance of getting a job at the GNWT.

Later that same day I had a phone call for an interview for the job. Only about 6 weeks after I’d applied for it! Although quite excited about this prospect I took the news with a grain of salt based on what I just heard on the radio.

I arrived home that evening to find an email in my inbox requesting a phone interview for a job in New Zealand which I’d applied for a mere 10 days earlier.

After lots of study on what the Department of Transport does in the NWT, I had a pretty good interview. It was funny because I wasn’t exactly sure of where it was and it was at 8:30am. So I went into the building, up and down the lift, back up the lift and managed to find someone in the HR department who directed back downstairs to where she thought the interview was to be held.

Twiddling my thumbs for five minutes, a lady approached me and introduced herself. She was the manager of the team I was interviewing for and it was probably quite good that we got to chew the fat for fve or so minutes before another one of the interviewees turned up.

But still no sign of the HR person. Ten minutes later we started the hour long interview.

I also thought it was funny that the next subject was waiting outside when I left. I gave her a scowl, a side ways glance to infer that the she didn’t stand a chance and then went to work.

That evening I had an hour long phone interview for the New Zealand job. It also seemed to go quite well.

A few days later I had a call to say that I’d got the Yellowknife job. It was subject to an appeal period but it was all pretty sweet. That evening I had a second interview via Skype for my New Zealand job.

One week later I had another call from the GNWT to say that the appeal period was over and that I’d got the job, and a contract would be drafted up and signed asap. That evening I had an email from the NZ job saying that subject to one final reference check I’d got the job.

Hmmm, two good job offers, on different sides of the globe. I found myself in a little bit of a quandary.

The next morning the GWNT phoned again to say that they’d received a late appeal. Although late, the appeal would need to be processed and reviewed and I would find out what this meant in a week or so…….

So after a weekend of soul searching I decided that while I could take the job here and experience some great travels to some remote parts of the Arctic during another long winter and do some interesting work, I couldn’t guarantee that a job like the one I’d got in NZ would be available when we decided to head home in a year or two.

Mountain Biking Yellowknife style

And I missed hiking NZ style, real mountain biking and many other NZ things that you just can’t do in Yellowknife.

So I’ve gone from the prospect of staying here for another two years to having to pack my bags and start a new job in NZ in only five weeks time!

A change is as good as a rest, or so they say.

Auckland – pre departure

Our last road trip – Bowentown to Auckland. We decided to indulge in a hotel for our last night in New Zealand because we’d had a pretty full on two weeks and were meeting up with friends for our final night in NZ.

While still overcast it was warm, so Nicole and I went for a swim in the hotel pool. It just what was needed to wake me up before yet another night of boozing.

We headed up to Ponsonby Road and had a couple of cheeky drinks before meeting the rest of the pose for dinner. We had a great night. Lots of yarns over dinner and a few drinks.

I think everyone was feeling a bit jaded as when we left the restaurant and broached the tough decision of “where to go next”, the answer ended up being – home. We must be getting old.

So we said our farewells and headed home. Farewell Auckland. Ka kete ano.

Just like our local in Yellowknife

Auckland

Whare missing the -40 degree Yellowknife

Kim and Casey

Ron & his confusing $1 “Austrian” wallet

Trouble

Bowentown

The road trip continued. East this time. We left Cambridge with the sun shining looking forward to catching up with friends and hanging at the beach for our last few days in Aotearoa.

I stopped for pie number six en route and we made it to Bowentown at about 1pm. Sam and Jules had flown up to Auckland and driven across especially to see us. Awesome. They were already there when we arrived, so after a brief catch up we headed to Waihi Beach for lunch – bumped into Matty G – and then decided to head to the beach.

Lifes a beach

 

The bach we’d rented was pretty sheltered but as we set up camp on the beach the wind began to pick up. After having a couple a beers we were starting to get sand blasted so headed back to the house.

Brendan, Pip and Shaun arrived and the beers flowed. If there’s one thing Nicole’s family and mine have in common it’s an innate ability to drink. Luckily I’d had two straight weeks of practice.

We rolled out of bed on Thursday and it was overcast and windy. I called Matty G and he came over with a fishing chart and his wealth of local knowledge. We then headed out in Brendan’s boat.

Due to the wind we snuck out in the harbour and tucked in behind Matakana Island and found the sweet spot Matt had told us about. Bingo, the Snapper rolled in one after the other.

With enough Snapper to feed a small African village for 12 months we lifted the anchor and set sail for home. What Matt hadn’t told us (or maybe he had but we’d forgot?) was that we were heading back in low tide and the harbour in front of the boat ramp was one massive sand bar. While bouncing along in the windy and choppy sea the boat suddenly ground to a halt – we’d found the sand bar.

Not knowing which way was up, Jules, Shaun and I jumped in and pulled the boat back a bit, Brendan raised the motor and we crawled back to the boat ramp. No damage except to our pride.

When getting the key for the boat ramp, the guy at the Boat Club bar asked: “Was that you coming in across the (sand) bar?”. “Ah, yeah” I replied.

After gutting and filleting the fish we had a few beers before cooking up the massive feast.

Dinner

Cricket in Cambridge

After a night in TK with Nicole’s whanau we hit the road north again and headed to Cambridge – so I could play cricket with Dad’s Tuesday night “business” house team.

I had been hoping I’d get the chance to have a Tuesday night in Cambridge, especially to play cricket. While playing cricket is always fun, I’ve been playing intermittently in Dad’s team since I was about 10.

With a chilli bin loaded up with beers we headed off to the Cambridge High School. The team we were playing were arch rivals and a few of my old rugby team mates were in the (opposition) team. We fielded first, my bowling was okay but I dropped – what would have been an awesome – catch. Gutted.

They got quite a few runs off our bowling (and fielding), so it was gonna be a big ask of our batting line up. After talking shit and drinking quite a few beers, two wickets fell in quick succession and it was my turn to bat.

The field closed in with the hope of getting a hat trick. With about 8 beers on board I had a big swing and miss first up. Phew, I’d survived one ball – not a Golden Duck at least.

In a momentary lapse of reason, as the second ball was lofted down the pitch, I scampered towards it hoping to smack it for six – but I missed…. stumped. Out for a Duck. Really gutted.

A few big hits and a few runs were added to our total (not by me obviously), but it was a futile effort. We lost.

Cricket was the winner on the day.

With my chilli bin empty I moved onto Dad’s never ending supply of Lion Red. Dave and a few of the boys came back to Mum and Dads for kai and a few more beers. We polished off a bottle of port and had a fun night. Ah, I love Tuesday nights in Cambridge.

Heading South – King Country pow wow

After a number of consecutive nights of over indulging we packed up the Camper and hit the road south. Time to have some big nights with the whanau!

After a brief stop in Whangarei we picked up Nicole’s bro in Auckland (he just happened to be back from Aussie for one of his friends weddings) and headed towards Te Kuiti. I cranked up the sounds while Nicole and Shaun chatted in the back of the camper. After 7 hours on the road we finally made it to TK – just in time for dinner.

With all the Were whanau gathered and Paddy (my bro) Katie, Meg, Jack and Flynn who’d come up from Pio Pio to see us, we enjoyed a delicious dinner outside in the warmth of a balmy Te Kuiti evening and answered a barrage of questions about life in the Knife.

The trusty camper

Nicole and her Nana

Jack loved the muscle dip

Bombing Russell

As should be expected I felt very rough the morning after the big day. After a coffee and a bacon and egg sandwhich I reluctantly took a Double Brown offered to me by Matty G.

Sitting in the blistering hot sun slowly sipping on my ever warming beer, we sat around chewing the fat for a while until the call for a bomb session went out. After some nagging by Robs nephew we finally got up off the grass, I downed the last of my flat and warm beer, nearly threw up and then headed over to the wharf.

Bombing Russell – what a set.

Bombing Russell

Hanging in Russell

It’d been nearly a decade since I was last in the Bay of Islands. It’s still beautiful.

Rob and Di’s wedding went off without a hitch. The tarpaulin I got roped into erecting – or at least project managing – stayed unused but upright and the weather cleared. What more can you ask for.

With only two weeks back in NZ we had more than our fair share of crap weather. After an extended period of sunshine and a heat wave over most of the country, the drought broke the minute we got off the plane (and has since resumed since we left again). The weather was a topic of much discussion leading up to the wedding and thankfully the tropical cyclone that was forecast came through the night before the wedding. It made for an interesting evening of getting around. It wasn’t cold but it was pouring down with rain and pretty windy. Stormy conditions some would say.

However, on Saturday morning, the wind blew the clouds and rain away and it eventually turned into a sweet afternoon. While sitting at the head table sipping on yet another Double Brown someone said that there was an awesome sunset to be seen across the bay. “Ah, I’ve seen enough sunsets in my day” was my response.

The lead up to the actual wedding was quite funny. Except for my own wedding, this was my debut in a wedding party. And a debut in any Scottish wedding. So as the boys congregated to get dressed, I managed to consume about 4 beers. We then had a we dram of Whiskey with Rob’s Dad and uncles (all Scottish of course). Rob then presented us with a mint hip flask which we proceeded to fill and then stash in our sporrans. Oh, and we all had to remove our underwear.

We ended up missing the earlier ferry we’d intended to catch and ended up catching a ferry with a lot of other punters heading over to the church. With a few drinks on board I managed to scare a few of the ladies by flashing (lifting my kilt) before I sat down. We made it to the church with plenty of time to spare, but with not enough time to stop in for one last pint before the service.

Di wasn’t too late (about 15 minutes I think), but we had enough time to sip away and eventually drain our hip flasks. The service went smoothly – the ladies looked lovely (especially Nicole) – and then it was time to head back to Russell and get on the piss.

With my speech still hovering in my sub conscious I chugged back a few beers and some Champagne with Nicole telling me now and again to not drink too much…. the speech was fine, although I stuck to the script to prevent some Jimmy K classic off topic ramblings, and was glad to have it out of the way. The food was delicious, and then the night seemed to fly by.

I somehow ended up in a line up to do torpedos of Double Brown near the end of the night. FYI – a torpedo involves puncturing a small hole near the bottom of the can (with a key or something similar), placing the hole to your lips, cracking the can open and skulling the contents as fast as possible (within 5 seconds for people who know what they’re doing. Unfortunately I’ve never been good at skulling, and although I was aware of this at the time, I thought, what the hell. So after the first few lads skulled their cans in seconds flat, I chugged away for what seemed like an eternity…..

We hit the dance floor – which I don’t think Rob left all night – and ended up back at an apartment for some post wedding drinks. As you do.

Di and Rob

Practice day – it’s gonna be okay Rob

Pull your head in Rob, this is serious.

It’s normal to be a bit nervous and sweaty before the big day, but…

Darts

What do you call a man rolling in a pile of leaves?

As a member of the bridal party wearing a kilt I didn’t take my camera to the wedding and therefore don’t have any photos of this auspicious occasion. Although I don’t have photos, the good times are etched in my memory for ever. Good times. Good times.

Heading North

After Mum had loaded up the camper with all sorts of treats I finally hit the road and cruised up to Auckland. After picking up Nicole our first stop was to buy me a new wedding ring!

Driving north of Auckland was interesting for me as we were driving on the section of state highway used in an example in the essay I co wrote to win a trip to Paris – I had to get that in somewhere. The toll road was a bit of a laugh – the time saved on the new route was then wasted when having to stop and pay at a pay station located inside a service centre! Only in New Zealand – or India, Africa……..

Cruising north on SH1

Whangarei – the city of 100 beaches. I’m not sure if that’s the official city slogan but if it isn’t, it should be. In between hanging our with Rob, Di and Di’s family Nicole and I cruised out to Ocean Beach – beautiful.

Ocean Beach

And then it was onwards and north towards Russell. Roll on the big day.

All this driving is thirsty work

Main reason for going home – Rob’s Stag Do

After a decent night sleep, it was only 24 hours since I’d arrived in NZ and I was gearing up for the big stag do. While still feeling a bit jaded Dad gave me the run through on all the gadgets and gizmos on their camper van – 80% of which I promptly forgot. One thing I did remember: no need for a chilli bin as the camper has a fridge – sweet!

Loaded up with a little more than I was wearing I set of for the City of The Future to meet the lads. The lads had been on an awesome river floating session on Friday and ended up having a massive night out in the Tron the night before the stag. So when we finally had our shit together we loaded up and set sail. First stop the Dinsdale Tavern for some Double Brown on tap.

The few punters having a quiet  mid afternoon beer on a bleak Saturday afternoon cast a few sideways glances our way when there were 15 orders of Double Brown jugs. Oh, and Ben’s order of a Speights Old Dark or something. Ben was always a bit weird though.

Next was Footy’s cunning plan of going through a carwash with Rob on the bonnet of his car. So after Rob was made to change into the Borat thong and then proceeded to wash the windscreen of a car at the traffic lights we set off for the nearest carwash. I jumped in the car with a few others while the other lads congregated around the front of the car wash….. Footy’s video sums it up really.

On the road to Ruapuke, I couldn’t hear the conversation in the back so I cranked up the tunes and was happy cruising in my own world. Meanwhile Casey, Leon, Morgs and Otis were doing their bit for Dominion Breweries and giving the camper van toilet a thorough workout – every time I looked in the rear view mirror one of them was going for another leak! The joys of cruising as a passenger in a camper en route to a stag do!

The rain pretty much cleared as we pulled into the camp ground and after a hard earned beer or two for me we headed to the beach. I opted to walk through the farm paddocks with a few others and although I busted a jandal I enjoyed the New Zealandness of having to negotiate electric fences, barbed wire and streams.

The beach presented some intense activities reminiscent of what we all used to do on a regular basis – frisbee, cricket, soccer, touch rugby, swimming and a full on game of bull rush. We decided we could no longer make a rugby team like when we were at school. I think just about everyone sustained some niggling injury – quickly forgotten by the pain killer we like to call beer. Except for poor old Wager and his fully sprained ankle. Oh, and the fact that I lost my wedding ring in the surf could have potentially resulted in an injury when I told Nicole….she was impressed at the search party’s efforts which I soon called off as the current was so strong it practically knocked you off your feet. My wedding ring is probably on the Gold Coast by now!

Our insurance policy of a 20 for 20 of Double Brown each incase the kegs ran out came into it’s own… until we ran out of Double Brown late in the night. Luckily Rob’s brother’s mate had arrived with a chilli bin full of Tui….I eventually slunk off to the comfort of the camper and left the last few stragglers talking drunken world problem solving garble. I was glad to know that Rob was one of the last lads up.

Sunday was a rather slow start. I eventually gathered enough energy and motivation to make a stove top expresso in the camper and a cuppa tea for old bung-ankle Wager. Those Scotsman like their tea. Otis fried a few sausages and we were thankful for Rob’s uncle John who’d come all the way from Scotland and had cleaned up most of our empty beer cans. Good on ya John.

A successful Stag Do. Roll on the wedding

The trappings of home

So we finally made it to Auckland after a few movies, an average dinner and a few hours of sleep during our 14 hour flight from Vancouver. Nicole’s mum meet us at the airport and we went straight to the nearest coffee stand for a real New Zealand coffee. Out at the car I offered to drive and headed to the front left door – hmm, this car isn’t a left hand drive.  As I pulled out of the car park Nicole reminded me to keep left…..

We safely made it to Hamilton in the pouring rain, and headed to one of our of old local haunts for breakfast – Hydro Magestic. We then spent the day in Cambridge catching up with my folks. In the afternoon I lay on the couch for a siesta while Nicole had a shower when I heard kids screaming in the door – three of my rugrat nieces and nephews…… they were stoked with generous old uncle Jimmy K’s gifts of Yellowknife pins!

Mum had made a gourmet feast – roast lamb and all the trimmings, followed by her classic apple pie. After eating more than I could handle and drinking a few beers I felt ready to explode when I finally hit the hay – welcome back to mum and dads!