Hello Darkness

A friend had pointed this film festival out to me, a special horror movie run just before Halloween. It was to be shown at ACMI, which has become a frequent haunt of mine, with their ‘Freaky Friday’ features. With an interest in most of the movies showing at this festival, we bought one of the four movie passes and picked the following:

Paranormal Activity
There has apparently been a significant amount of hype around for this movie, but I hadn’t heard too much about it other than a website petition for the movie to be shown in certain towns (a rather successful marketing trick). This showing was sold out, but I had low expectations – a hand-held self-filmed movie? I couldn’t help but think of the Blair Witch Project. Thankfully this turned out much better. It seemed to last for a long time, but only because it was so tense all the way through. Despite this the characters created some natural comedy, but not enough to override the tension, particularly later on. I found myself sucked into the story and about half way through I had to remind myself that it was only a movie and it wasn’t real.

I won’t give too much away, but the story was great, if lacking in detail in places and the action was simple and spectacular. The ending I saw (one of three according to most websites) was good, but I felt added too much comedy to it rather than fear. The other two endings that I have heard about sound better, but whether they were executed well is another matter.

The Last House on the Left
This was the recent remake of the original from the 1970s, and I saw it only half an hour after ‘Paranormal Activity’, so obviously my expectations were fairly high. As it was fairly different, it wasn’t hard to expect different, and there was definitely a comedic gore factor to it, as well as some social and moral issues lightly tossed in.

As I haven’t seen the original, I can’t say how it compares, but I can say that it was a good movie. The acting was fairly good (especially the ‘bad guys’), and the special effects of blood and guts was fairly realistic for the most part. It was a scary movie in a different way, because there wasn’t too much tension building (and what there was was short-lived). The fear came in the believing that people could act that way, and that revenge could be that easy.

As I said, I wasn’t scared by this one, but it was still a good horror movie.

Sheitan
The first of two foreign language movies, I was quite looking forward to this one. I’ve seen some French movies, and quite enjoy their quirkiness, but was unsure whether that would continue into the horror-style movies. It certainly did. This movie definitely did not disappoint – there was tension, violence, sex and generally strange things. It was fantastic.

I feel the camera work is also worth a mention, with different techniques being applied to bring out the different moods throughout the movie. This was a strong point for me.

Overall there was a certain element of humour throughout this movie, right until the end, and it helped to confuse the audience. The moments of humour would come at unexpected points, or be so closely linked to the fear that it gave a very uneasy feeling. I thoroughly enjoyed this movie.

Haute Tension
The last movie of my four, and another French one. A quick look at IMDB indicated that this would be different to the oddness of ‘Sheitan’ and a more traditional horror slasher gore-fest; it certainly didn’t let down on the last count!

The story was a little predictable, with an inkling of the ending in the back of my mind. However, the execution was fairly good, with the build up, the action and a prolonged conclusion all being of high quality. The acting was hit and miss at times, but the soundtrack, camera work and blood made up for this for the most part. The plot was also missing in parts, but I still thought it worked.

Probably the weakest of the four I saw, but going by the high quality, it was definitely not a bad movie.

After re-reading this, I feel that I’m being faithful to my ‘resolution’ of sorts to watch more movies!

Phillip Island

My housemate and I decided to take a last minute weekend trip down to Phillip Island. We left just after 7am Saturday morning and headed down the Princes Hwy. We made good time, arriving at Grantville by around 9.30am. I’d read about the mini-golf at Maru Koala Park, and being the mature 20-somethings that we are, we just had to stop for a game.

We were the first customers of the day and after a quick coffee we headed out to the extensive pirate-themed course. It was quite an impressive set up, with a large boat (that you’re not allowed on) and several other decorated buildings and themed music. The golf itself was quite disappointing, being fairly easy (not that we were trying too hard). I’m fairly sure we missed a hole at one stage, and at the end, the ball disappears into a Aussie-outback-themed hut. As I only hit mine in, we headed back in with the other and I was getting ready to apologise for losing a ball when they informed me that that’s where they’re meant to end up. Very confusing. We skipped the koala park part and kept moving down to San Remo.

By the time we got to San Remo, we needed some more air, so went for a nice walk down the beach away from the crowds.

Eventually we headed back to the car and we decided to head across to Phillip Island. Within just a couple of kilometres, we saw a sign for a farmers market on Churchill Island, so decided to take a detour there and to the visitor’s centre. Thankfully we managed to pick up a map of the island and were given advice about some beaches to visit and about the Penguin Parade, which we decided we might as well see while we were there.

By the time we looked at the farmers market, it was approaching the time we had indicated to the B&B we would arrive. The place was called Otira, and was easily found by their instructions. We were met on arrival by an old dog (Dougal), followed by Robyn, the owner of the B&B.

Check in, such as it was, was no problem, and the room was beautifully presented in the main house. As noted on their website, we had afternoon tea on arrival (although it was even lunch time) with a delicious homemade carrot cake. Robyn’s husband John came out and told us all about the farm, how it used to be (he’s lived there all his life), how it is now, and offered to take us out to feed the 2 1/2 month old lambs.

Clutching warm milk in old Corona bottles with a rubber teat, we headed out with John to a small paddock. The lambs devoured the milk and headed off for a nap, while John took us down to the shearing shed and show us Dougal at work as a sheep dog. It was great to see a small herd of very fuzzy sheep (the shearing was happening when his sons arrived the next day) and an old dog doing what he loved.

As Robyn had suggested a beach at the end of Ventnor Beach Road, we decided we had nothing to lose in heading down and taking a look. We found an almost empty sandy beach with small areas with rock pools – it was fantastic. We took a lazy walk down to a point and then headed back again to go and get some lunch. We headed into Cowes and tried to find somewhere that wasn’t taken over by tourists – unfortunately that meant eating Burger Edge. There’s something wrong about going away and eating at a chain restaurant/eatery.

After that we went for a drive and completed a loop of the island through Rhyll before heading down to another beach – Smiths beach, which is popular with surfers. There were more people here, but we had a walk down to the rocky end of the beach anyway before moving on to see the Nobbies. Heh.

The Nobbies were even busier than the beach, with several busloads of tourists visiting when we arrived. We stopped for a cup of tea in the generic visitor centre and looked at heading down the boardwalk to take a better look, but the crowds of tourists and seagulls put us off. Instead we went back to the B&B for a rest before the Penguin Parade.

The Penguin Parade was quite an experience. The tourists and crowds were frustrating, but for the most part all behaved themselves. The penguins of course were cute, and arrived just after the sun went down and continued for over an hour in dribs and drabs. I’ve only ever seen them in the wild at Granite Island, in much smaller numbers, so this was very impressive. After they come up over the becah, you can walk along the boardwalk and watch them heading up to their burrows, even see some of the chicks coming out to meet their parents.

An early night was calling, so we grabbed a snack and went straight to bed. Breakfast the next morning was quite an affair – a huge choice of courses including cooked, all fresh and delicious, served in the well-presented dining room with silverware. I could almost get used to that. Another couple had arrived late the previous evening so we stuck around and had a chat with them before settling up the bill, saying goodbye to the lambs and heading off with a loaded car.

Before we left, we thought we’d try one more walk so headed to Pyramid Rock, where you can walk along the cliff down to a beach. We walked to first lookout and found ourselves nearly getting blown away by the winds that had come in overnight and decided it would stupid and probably dangerous to continue, so got back in the car and kept moving.

A few stops on the way home and we were back in the living room by 2.30pm or so. A wonderfully quick getaway.

Identity

Since I was young, I’ve always had questions asked about where I’m from, where my family are from and what my accent is.

In brief, I was born in Adelaide; when I was 9 and a half, my family moved to England and when I was 18, I moved to Melbourne on my own.

Now I guess this isn’t too unusual; a family that I know moved to America for a slightly longer period of time, with children of similar age, and I’m sure we’re not alone in that.

Living in England was meant to be a temporary thing, a two year contract, and then we’d return to Adelaide. Of course, this didn’t happen, so we were settled over there.
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Mostly due to my age, I quickly developed an English accent, and as such, people who met me after that, considered me to be English. Even when people found out that I was from Australia and had spent some time at school there, most would still consider me English due to living there for an extended time.

I distinctly remember that during the World Cups of 2002 and 2008, I was asked why I didn’t support England; during the Ashes, it was the same. For me, it seemed logical. I was Australian, I could see myself moving back, and none of my family were from England. But for my class mates, they thought that I had lived in England for long enough, I couldn’t remember most of the time in Australia and therefore I should consider myself English.

I had a British passport, but only because my mum is Scottish, so why should I in any way consider myself English?

I know that the children of the family who spent time in America are similar – even though they moved when they were younger, they still think of themselves as Australian. Now that they have moved back here, they, like me, have lost the overseas accent and sound Australian again.

Now that I’m back in Australia, people ask why I don’t consider myself English after such a long time there. I think the main thing that it comes down to is that it was meant to be a short time. If I had gone over there not thinking I would be returning soon, I’m sure my experience would have been different and I could (and that’s a big could!), to a small extent, have considered myself English. Obviously, the Ashes would still have separated me from my classmates!

However, knowing that it was only going to be a couple of years, it was a case of, ‘I’ll be going home soon’ – Australia was home and England wasn’t.

I’m not sure what my point is with this – I guess I just wanted to put it out. It wasn’t the most typical of childhoods, but I know that living in England provided a great many experiences to me that weren’t available if I had stayed in Adelaide. I learnt languages, travelled in Europe, we were closer to my mum’s family in Scotland and I was close to London. However, nine years is a long time to spend over there.

The idea of moving back to Adelaide after living close to London was barely considered. I had one of my school friends and a tiny amount of family, but very little else.

Melbourne seemed lively enough to keep me occupied, and I knew some people there, so I wouldn’t be starting from scratch with a social group. It seemed like a good idea and it’s turned into a great idea – Melbourne has become my home.

After some intermittent internet connections and some more unpacking (and more procrastination), I’m back.

Work is busy, social life is busy, parents are visiting and knitting needles are flying.

More to the point though…

I’ve moved house and it went moderately smoothly. There are still boxes everywhere, but I have the Internet, so they won’t get unpacked now. Ever.

Adelaide

After it being a good year since last visiting Adelaide, the arrival of a football game between my friend’s team (Hawthorn) and my team (Adelaide) in Adelaide seemed like a good excuse to go back.

It was a difficult trip, with the Skybus to Tullamarine leaving from Southern Cross at around 5am, requiring a ridiculously early start on our part! The trip to the airport, checking in and the flight itself were all very smooth – especially considering we were flying with Jetstar!

Adelaide at 7am was fairly cold, but we managed to find the bus (which was running on a Saturday morning) and get into the centre of town. Finding the hotel was no problem, but check in wasn’t until 2pm, so we had some time to kill. Luckily we could leave our big bags in the hotel while we explored the early morning city. After walking up Rundle Mall, Rundle Street and looping back around on North Terrace, we stopped for a bite to eat (brunch?) at a small cafe called ‘Not Coffee’.

As we weren’t staying with my Grandma this time, we went to see her later on Saturday morning. Unfortunately, the buses were over an hour apart so we ended up getting a taxi out into the inner suburbs. As my friend is vegan, I had baked some cookies to take with us to save my Grandma stressing over finding something vegan. As it turned out, she did have some other biscuits in her cupboard which were milk/animal-free, but little else!

Back in the city, we got off the bus and went in the Central Markets for a look around – not much has changed – and then back up through Victoria Sqaure. Many a photo was taken.

Thankfully after that we could check in and had a little nap so that we wouldn’t crash too early that night. Our hotel was the Adelaide Paringa Motel, which despite the old decor, was clean, cheap and cheerful. The receptionist was quite amusing too, making sarcastic comments about the ’sights of Adelaide’!

We went out just as the sun was going down and went down to the Torrens, opposite the Festival Centre to scope out potential night-shooting places; unfortunately we came up with very little and didn’t go back down there later.

Dinner that night was at a delicious Thai joint in Hindley Street called Mekong Thai. The prices were reasonable (especially for booze), the food delicious and service fantastic. I’m still trying to establish what was wrong with it!

That evening we headed down to Rundle Mall to take some night shots. A surgical mask on the pigs covered the hilarity of the swine flu panic, and then the balls and some other long exposures were enough to cover a night shoot in Adelaide. The idea of a warm hotel room and a good nights sleep was just too tempting, so we had an early night.

Sunday; the day of the footy. Without too much before the early afternoon game, we took a quick walk down King William Street to do some shooting before catching the bus out to the game. I’m still in awe that the public transport is so readily available and civilised.

The game itself was OK – we played well, but could have played better. Hawthorn didn’t deserve to win, but we could have fought a lot harder and won by a bigger margin. Overall though, very happy result and a great atmosphere for the game. The little bit of rain was only a little off-putting but thankfully didn’t last too long.

After catching the bus back into the city (still in awe), we headed back for a rest at the hotel and then out for an early dinner again. Again we settled on Thai, but this wasn’t as impressive (down on Rundle Street), and then a couple of (dirt cheap) pints at the Exeter to keep us warm before walking back down to our hotel.

Monday morning was free for us until around 1pm, so we took a last walk around the city for photos. A loop took us up onto North Terrace, through the museum/university area, back around down Frome Road, down towards Victoria Square and back along Rundle Mall to our hotel. By this time, we were both ready for a sit down! The journey back was uneventful other than a 20 minute delay on the flight, and we managed to get home between the light showers of rain.

After being slack for a while, I’ll update this soon with more photography experiments, my flying trip to Adelaide, an up to date list of books read so far this year, movie highlights so far and events I have to look forward to. Fingers crossed I get to it this week!

Tourism and fundraising

Last Saturday I managed to do another tourist activity in Melbourne which I hadn’t done yet. The Entertainment Guide contains vouchers for many things, and I noticed one for a Yarra River cruise. So a cold and windy Saturday afternoon was ideal, right?

On the way down there, my friend and I stopped at Fed Square for the Buddha’s Day festival. The performances and shrines were of little interest, mostly due to lack of time and preferring to move to the food on offer. Mainly vegetarian or vegan, the variety was quite impressive. There were many ‘meat dishes’ made with substitutes (mostly soy I think), and after trying the duck, calamari and chicken, I concluded that the texture was very realistic and all tasted delicious.

Next, the boat trip! The voucher entitled us to buy-one-get-one-free on either a one way (down or up river), or both ways (down and up river) – we decided on the latter, because we could. The trip down river, towards Docklands, was more interesting, and provided more photography opportunities. It was definitely windy and cold, but the views were ones I hadn’t seen before and well worth it.

The second part of the trip went up river, past Richmond. This wasn’t as interesting, but had some nice views of the botanic gardens and Herring Island. The late afternoon light was lovely and golden by this time, and I’m sure the hen’s afternoon cruise ladies were enjoying themselves!

During the last week, I’d been out for a night shoot at Flemington Bridge, and I had taken both my DSLR and my Olympus SLR. I did shoot with the digital, but also used it as a lightmeter for the SLR – I began to shoot my first roll of colour slide film. I’d chosen Fujifilm Provia 100, after seeing how it came out at night, but had only fired off a few frames. With the help of a warming filter however, I finished shooting that roll on the ‘outward’ boat trip. Results are back tomorrow hopefully.

After disembarking, we tried an Italian restaurant (upstairs on Swaston Street – not very good), and another early night was on the cards.

Sunday morning required an earlyish start. As some of you may or may not know, I work for Peter MacCallum Cancer Centre. Each year, during the AFL season, there is a game between Collingwood and Carlton known as the Peter Mac Cup to help raise money for the hospital.

This year being the first year I’ve worked there (coming up to 11 months), I volunteered to help fundraise at the game. This involved getting there mid-morning to be briefed and assigned a location (Jolimont station) and moving into position for the first attendees coming in on the train.

This is one of the first fundraising events directly for Peter Mac that I’ve taken part in, and it was definitely enjoyable. The spirit of people coming through is quite astounding. Obviously a lot of people are there just for the footy, but there were also people getting off the train with coins ready to donate – knowing that we’d be there. Some people would stop for a few words, others just donated and kept moving, but all in all, it was interesting to see all the different faces coming.

Although we were given free general admission tickets to the game afterward, we couldn’t find a seat, and after standing for over two hours, my legs needed a rest. We headed home and caught nearly the whole game on the TV (one time I’m grateful for a delay), in the warmth and comfort of my lounge – and I for one was delighted to see Collingwood lose!

The Last Laugh

How sad, the comedy festival is over!

I had a slow last week and only saw three shows, but they were good and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed myself. I’ve missed some shows that I would have been interested to see, but I’m glad I’ve seen as many as I did!

So the last three started with Nik Coppin – an English guy who my friends help promote each year, and as such, I feel obliged to see. I saw him last year and enjoyed his show and so felt less obliged and more keen to see him off my own back. His show was quite empty on a Sunday evening with less than ten of us there, but he took the chance to talk a little more rubbish that was relevant to each of us.

After that, it was all relaxed until Friday night! Unfortunately by this stage I had (and still have) my second cold in as many weeks. I went to Wil Anderson to help to cure it. Although I don’t consider myself a huge fan of him, I do like him and was glad to have a chance to see his own show. Although there was quite a bit of swearing, it was different to Arj Barker in that it wasn’t for the sake of it. I’ve realised that what my high school ethics teacher (who was Australian) said was true – that Australians simply swear for punctuation. Wil swearing didn’t annoy me as much as Arj because it part of the language that he’s always and probably will always use.

The show was pretty extensive, and as with Adam Hills, had it’s sad moment, but for the most part was continuous laughs!

The last show for the festival was Ali McGregor’s Lullabies. It’s a charity show which has been on for the last three years and as my friend had mentioned it last year, I thought I’d get in this year and see what it was about. It raises money for an orphanage in Cambodia and simply involves a selection of comedians performing ‘lullabies’, although the term is used very loosely! This year included Tripod, Fiona O’Laughlin’s daughter, Adam Hills, The Boy With Tape On His Face (and his wife?), Stephen K Amos and many more which I can’t remember.

It was a beautiful show with so many beautiful and unconventional lullabies performed. Obviously there were many laughs, but constant mentions of the orphans brought it back to everyone.

About half-way through the show, which was in Bosco (a tent set up in City Square), it started raining. As most people would realise, it was very loud! It added to the warm atmosphere in the tent though, and strategic traffic noises added percussion to some songs! Unfortunately while we were warm and dry inside, there was no backstage for the artists and Ali McGregor had to arrange for some bubble wrap to keep them dry (and floating I presume).

All the acts came forward at the end and performed ‘Don’t Worry, Be Happy’ as an a cappella. It was one of the best endings to a show, and definitely a good ending to the comedy festival for me!

Travelling makes me SICK

No, really. I have a cold and am feeling sorry for myself in bed instead of going to the airshow, which I’m quite sad about. On the other hand, I can rest and get some things done that I probably wouldn’t have otherwise. So here we go, the first installment of my trip to New Zealand!

Not liking to leave anything to the last minute, I was borrowing a backpack from Kat at 10pm on Thursday (5th March) – a back-up plan in case I couldn’t find my own one on Friday (6th March) morning. I went out nice and early and did manage to find my own one, so came home by 11am and got packing. I changed my mind about cameras a few times, but eventually settled on just two – my Olympus OM-1N and Canon EOS 10D (with zoom and wide lenses – just in case). I took a mixture of black and white and colour film for the Olympus, but concluded I would probably only shoot black and white on the film because I can process it myself, and colour on the digital.

Eventually got on my way, no major problems (I’d left in time to account for the train delays – a passenger was sick on the platform at Flinders Street Station) and got to Tullamarine in plenty of time. Checked in, found something to eat, had a look at the duty-free (planning to purchase on the way back in) and through security.

Most times I’ve gone through airports in the last few years, I’ve had camera/cameras and film on me, and most times I get asked to take them all out. This time though, they didn’t bat an eyelid and I went on my merry way with no questions asked.

The flight itself was uneventful. The headphone jack didn’t work, and I didn’t want to move seats, so I read most of the flight (1984 by George Orwell – for a third or fourth time now) and tried to keep sane when I started getting dizzy during the descent into Wellington! It was a horrible feeling, but I didn’t vomit and I’m here to tell the tale, so it can’t be too bad.

As I collected my luggage and came out, I was under the impression that I would have to take a taxi into the city because the shuttle buses stopped at 11pm (I flew in after midnight). I came out and a member of airport staff was pointing out where a shuttle bus was waiting for people. I headed over and a larger-than-life Maori guy greeted me enthusiastically, asked where I needed to go and stood around smiling at everyone until we were ready to go. I couldn’t have asked for a better welcome to NZ! It was still raining though…

He dropped me at the door of my hostel, Nomads Capital in Wakefield St. Now, I booked this a month or two ago, and specifically booked a female only dorm – thinking it would be quieter without snoring. I didn’t think to ask when I checked in, so headed up to my room and as I opened the door was hit by the smell of sweat and aftershave – this was obviously not a female dorm! About 20 minutes later, the two other occupants came in and as suspected, both were male. Both were ‘living’ there. They were friendly enough, and after the introductions, they went straight to sleep, and thankfully didn’t snore. Unfortunately I still didn’t sleep too well with the stuffiness, the uncomfortable bed and not being used to other people around me. As far as I could tell though, the room was quite clean and bathroom small and functional.

In the morning (Saturday 7th March), I double-checked what I had booked and it turns out they had received no such instruction – probably because I’d booked through an external website. They offered to move me, but I was content there and the smell wasn’t too bad when the door was propped open to let a breeze through!

So I headed out on my first fresh morning in Wellington, and thankfully it had stopped raining. A beautiful blue sky awaited me, so I headed out with my cameras and went down to the tourist information centre, then through Civic Square and down by the water to get to Te Papa, the Museum of New Zealand. It was free entry, but with a half an hour queue and small fee to see the Monet exhibition. I had arrived just before it opened, and decided to walk around before tackling the line for the Monet exhibition because it seemed that people were going just to see that.

The museum is a beautiful, modern building with quite a lot of natural light in the halls. The exhibitions were interesting, if a little small at times. The Maori history in particular was quite interesting, and I noted that there was a lot for the kids – hands-on displays etc. There was also, intriguingly, a Scottish display! Apparently NZ has a large population of Scots, and many of the belongings from the first immigrants are housed there.

After I walked around I decided to get in line to see the Monet exhibition. It didn’t take as long as I thought, and gave me a chance to read the brochures I had picked up that morning! On entering I was asked whether I wanted to have my cameras put in the cloakroom (photography is not allowed in this exhibition) but I pointed out I’d put the lens caps on and wouldn’t be taking any photos and they accepted that and let me in.

Generally in the museum they had no problems with taking photos – so long as it wasn’t of the displays and was only for personal use. This was fine for me, and after being told that on entry, I had no other problems. It was nice change to, for example, the State Library of Victoria, where I was watched and reminded all the way through not to use flash.

The Monet exhibition was beautiful, with a few other Impressionist pieces thrown in to show the history of how the art developed. Well worth the wait and cost, I was glad to have been able to see it.

After this I was feeling peckish, so headed along to Courtenay Place hoping I could grab something to eat. I found a place recommended to me by a colleague, Coyote, and decided to give it a try. The breakfast quesadilla was my choice, and it was delicious! Shame the orange juice wasn’t fresh, but you can’t have everything.

After my late breakfast, I decided I had best take advantage of the good weather and decided to walk down along Oriental Parade, where there’s a beach and a lovely wide footpath (even wider than the rest of the city – which was wide enough).

The sun kept shining and a lot of families were out enjoying the weather, there were even a few kids swimming in the 50 metres between the the life-savers’ flags. I began to notice a trend – that a fair number of people use skateboards or longboards as modes of transport – the wide and flat footpaths are ideal for it.

I walked out a way before I turned to come back the same way and went into the city around Kent Terrace and Vivian Street – so I could see Cuba Street/Mall as I looped back. It was interesting to see a different city, although at times it did feel like just another urban area. The people just spoke a little differently.

Cuba Street/Mall was different to how I had pictured it, but was still interesting with the huge blending of people – tourists and locals – who seemed to engulf it on a Saturday afternoon. The fountain in the mall was interesting – I can’t say that I liked it, but it is mildly amusing for children to get too close and get splashed.

I went down to the tourist information centre again so that I could see how I could get to Mount Victoria – apparently some of the best views of Wellington – and after being given a bus number and timetable, I realised that it didn’t actually run on weekends. Sadly, given that I was only there for Saturday and Sunday, it meant I didn’t get to see Wellington from there.

As the afternoon kept going, I was lacking in energy, so I headed back to the hostel for a rest. This turned into an afternoon nap, which was quite good as no one else was in the room! I had a couple hours rest, and sorted out all my camera gear again. I decided to leave my SLR in the locker as I took out my tripod for the evening, shooting only digital as I’m not yet used to longer exposures and don’t want to waste a lot of frames.

As I was loosely planning my trip around a Rough Guide from 2006, I tried to double check on activities and places before I headed out my way to see them. Unfortunately I didn’t check that for the restaurant I chose for my first night, a traditional Maori one, and so headed out only to find it had closed. As I headed back into the city, I remembered my colleague also recommended a kebab joint, so I went in and had my first ever kebab – and certainly won’t be my last.

I walked down by the waterfront as the sun was setting and took some longer exposures, including some which I planned to merge together to create HDR images. At no point did I feel unsafe in Wellington, even at night on my own, and decided to shoot again the next night too.

This was my first HDR attempt, which I’m relatively happy. It’s only two exposures – the sky and the building.

I headed back to the hostel, and as it was a Saturday night, the boys from my room and I went down to the hostel bar (Blend) for a few drinks (I was given a 2-4-1 voucher when I checked in) – but I began to realise that some types of backpackers were quite annoying and was glad to get to my bed that night.

Our room was now full too, as a young German guy was moved in – although he was actually looking for place to stay as he had just moved to Wellington to study. Being the only tourist in the room was a little strange, but they didn’t hold it against me and I was enjoying my stay. And as uncomfortable as the bed was, I was glad to be off my feet!