Having moved from Scotland to Australia in 2005 to find out if she had fallen in love with the country as well as her husband a decade ago, she decided that the answer was 'yes' and intended to stay.


However life has always had a marvellous way of changing her best-laid plans. And it happened again. An unexpected work opportunity presented itself in mid-2008: one too good to miss.


As a result the Witter from Down Under is now coming from the land of the long white cloud - New Zealand.


Please join us and read Frenchbean's commentary on a new country, a new city, a new job and new friends.

New Home or Novelty Bubble?

Hello Everybody

It has been a surprise (and a familiar comfort) to be in the company of old friends here in Christchurch: blackbirds, thrushes, starlings, sparrows, goldfinches, greenfinches, yellowhammers and skylarks all warble or flit about the city. They have been introduced by European settlers over the last couple of centuries and are doing very well, despite being alien invaders.

Native vs. exotic is a hot debate here. I am struggling to see some of the logic in arguments which 'allow' a sheep or a grass, but not a rose bush or a Canada goose. Most of the people I've spoken do not differentiate between objective discussion and subjective invective: it's almost always a heated discussion. And it is always interesting to see the different lines in the sand for each topic of debate.

Rats, cats, mice, possums, stoats and ferrets (amongst others) are huge problems. British passerines appear to be relatively immune to them (or at least accustomed) and so they survive, whereas NZ native passerines (and much more besides) have been predated more effectively.

One of the biggest areas of disagreement centres around what exactly is an alien species. Is it one brought in by Europeans? Or one brought in by Moari? Or one blown over from Australia? All, two or one of the above?

(Of course the most destructive alien species is Man. The Maori arrived 1200-odd years ago and proceeded to eat many bird species to extinction. Then the Europeans rocked up and did even more damage to native fauna and flora.)

Birds occur all over the open spaces of the city, including several large wetlands supporting significant bird numbers (25% of the world's NZ Scaup live here and there are big populations of both Paradise Shelduck and grebe).

The Port Hills and Banks Peninsula are both important upland areas, and closer to home Hagley Park houses the Botanic Gardens which are bursting into leaf and flower. I got hopelessly lost in Hagley Park as a result of following and gazing into the River Avon too closely while I was trying to find the Riccarton Farmers' Market last weekend. The Avon isn't particularly wide, nor deep, but it is clean: the waving water-weed and gravel on the bottom is clearly visible. Standing on a walking bridge over the river I spotted a huge eel as it wound its way across the current to find shade under a willow tree. Then a beautiful great trout gently wafted its way upstream, feeding as it went. Yum yum!

It reminded me how keen I am to get fishing now that I'm here and I mentioned this in passing to one of my new colleagues, who pointed me in the direction of the local fishing shop. The Canterbury Fly Fishing Club looks like a good starting point for finding my way. It particularly encourages "Ladies" to join. Do they have lots; or not enough? There is only one way to find out.

Hagley Park is also home to Victoria Lake: a boating lake in the best tradition of those in British cities. The day I found it was race day for the Chchch Model Yacht Club (CMYC). There they all were: "Captains" lined up with remote controls in hand around the lake by the clubhouse. The pennants were flying and the starter's gun was at the ready (a recording of a canon - honestly).

It was with sombre-but-tense earnestness that the races started. There was a fair amount of shouting - as one yacht stole the wind of another, or tacked too close for comfort - and scuttling up and down the bank as the yachts flew back and forth in the gusty wind. There was little friendly banter.

I don't think that club encourages "Ladies". There were none there at all; not even serving cucumber sandwiches.

I sat on a bench on the other side of the lake and took photos, to hide my laughter. It was obviously not a laughing matter, which was appropriate given that the lake was named after Queen Victoria.

During my walks around the city I have found the following:

• Cheesemonger (selling Orkney oatcakes and a huge variety of cheeses from all over the world – and just round the corner from the apartment)
• Organic fruit and veg market on Saturday mornings (and just up the road from the apartment)
• Farmers' Market (great for honey, cheese and sausages)
• Butcher (which has been in the same spot for over 100 years and buys meat on the hoof from local farms)
• Old-style grocer (like the one at the end of Plymyard Avenue when I was small – shelves piled high with absolutely everything you might ever need)
• Kitchen-ware shop (the best wooden spoons I've ever found and great for treats and presents)
• Cup cake parlour (yum yum)
• Organic store (for flour in particular)
• Herb café (next to the organic store and using their products)
• Coffee-roasting shop (wonderful aromas) and associated café
• Wine shop (several – of course)

Work? Well, I suppose I should mention it in passing... The Most Important things are that:

a) if I look over my desk and the low dividing screen in front of it, across a table, down a corridor, through my manager's door and through her window, I can see the Southern Alps (which have been glistening in the sun this week); and

b) I am relishing the fact that at the end of each day I put on my coat, pick up my bag, turn my back on the whole lot of it and walk away. It is something about which I shall never be complacent again. Work is just work. Life is what is important.

Having said that I'm beginning to realise how great this job could be: I love the fact that reading about birds, talking to botanists and looking at wetlands is something I'm paid to do! How lucky am I?

There are other things about which to be grateful:

• Chips are real chips (chups, to be eaten with fush), made from real potatoes.
• And mayonnaise is mayonnaise (not salad cream).
• And the local drink shop has eight different British beers. I haven't found Tanglefoot yet, but had a bottle of Belhaven Best with my Indian takeaway this evening: delicious!

There is so much to explore and so much to learn: I'm beginning to wonder if my poor brain can take it all in. However, in just three weeks I have discovered enough to make me feel quite at home. Whether I'm living in a bubble of the novelty of the place, or whether it really will end up home; only time will tell….

Witters from Down Under Archive

Frenchbean

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