New Zealand, as you may have noticed, is in the Southern Hemisphere. That means that we flew from July heat into the deepest part of winter. During a cold snap. To a city that has been described as “like England in the 1950's.” How does that translate? Try this: primitive heating technology, outrageous energy costs, in a country famous for its wool production.
It's not that the Kiwis don't believe in heat. It's just that they think ice is pretty cozy stuff. You can see them on the roads, riding bicycles in the rain when it's 33 degrees Fahrenheit. You see them in their homes, wearing wool hats and coats. You see them in the town square, soaking up the one square inch of feeble sunshine that shines through the window between noon and 1 PM.
On our first night in a two-room motel suite, the dinky little electric heater would come on for 30 seconds and blow enough lukewarm air to maybe keep a small closet warm, then shut off for two or three minutes. When we woke up in the morning, it was 57 degrees. Really. We debated taking the drinks out of the fridge so that they would be colder. When we tried to take a shower, we had to kick out the cute little penguins who were ice-skating there.
After a few days, we left the motel and moved to our cousin's gorgeous retirement home overlooking a bay. This house has been completely remodeled and upgraded, with all the latest stuff. Sure enough, it has heaters that actually work. Only if you turn one on, you are spending approximately $30/minute, so we left them off and enjoyed the view. Of the fog. When night fell, we huddled under blankets and ate dinner in front of the TV. We didn't actually watch anything, though, since turning the thing on would have used up another $100.
When I got to my new job, I was pleased to discover that I had an office that was heated to a nice comfortable level—if you're wearing three layers of wool. And it had no computer. Or phone. Or even a chair. But hey, there were pens and a pad to doodle on while I waited for those things to show up. I drew a picture of a palm tree on a nice desert island. When I came back later, the leaves had fallen off the palm and it was wearing a wool sweater of its own.
Despite all the cold, it's nice here in New Zealand. The people are friendly, the buses run on time, and the food has been delicious. Everybody says this is an unusually cold winter, and spring is coming. So really, even if it sounds like I'm complaining, I'm not.
I just wish somebody would show me where the thermostat for the outdoors is.
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