Christmas in Wellington

Christmas Morning on the Backpacker's Trail

For a guy who had spent all but two of the last fifteen Christmases amidst Canadian winters, being in Wellington, New Zealand on December 25th was just plain surreal.

It wasn't the weather. A White Christmas in Toronto is the exception rather than the rule; and the weather in Wellington that day was overcast and cool, even by mild-New Zealand-summer standards. It didn't feel weird because of the lack of family. I wasn't the only one travelling and nobody was home even if I'd wanted to call -- my parents were in China with my grandparents; while my brother, sister-in-law and nephew were down in Austin, Texas. It wasn't even the fact that Christmas Eve dinner was a large Domino's pizza, consumed whilst sitting in the middle of the Cambridge and Kent Terrace boulevard.

What made things surreal was the overall lack of public Christmas cheer. Since "Christmas cheer" can be a rather esoteric concept, what I mean was a lack of Christmas lights. Walking through downtown Wellington -- along the main commercial strip on Courtney Place -- there was nary a red or green or flashing light in sight. It was jarring. I guess it comes down to the fact that New Zealand's English colonial roots makes it all seem so familiar, and any little difference becomes a magnified peculiarity. Light-laden trees along Bloor Street in Toronto, or displays strung across Regent Street in London, this was not. Auckland at least had the giant creepy Santa. Wellington? Nothing.

What Happens When You Shop For Christmas Gifts at a Dollar Store

Christmas was what it was. It was my last hurrah with Holly, Ems, Marc, Paul and Pete; the end of two weeks travelling around the North Island together. I struck out on my own on Boxing Day, heading down to Nelson on the South Island.

But first we had to amuse ourselves on Christmas Day. Wellington was dead. Everything was shut down. The overcast, cool and windy weather ("Windy Welly" is not just some over-exaggerated nickname) precluded much time outdoors; the wind certainly curtailed any thoughts of laying on a beach with a six-pack of beer (okay, the Christmas beer on beach thing was hampered by the ubiquitous New Zealand outdoor liquor ban zones more than anything). So there was the Christmas BBQ at the hostel, a lot of running around in silly Christmas hats, and a Lord of the Rings marathon on TV. The drinking started with a champagne laden breakfast at 10:30am.

2009's Yuletide lesson? That it is indeed possible to be hungover starting at nine in the evening.

I Have No Explanation For This

Related Entries:
1. And Now For Something Just a Little Bit Different
2. East As!
3. Auckland

(All photos were courtesy of Paul, and run through Addicted to Designs Old-Timey Lomo Photoshop Action)