There is just one moon
And one golden sun
And a smile means
Friendship to every one
Though the mountains divide
And the oceans are wide
It's a small world after all
- Sherman & Sherman It's a Small World (After All)
We bought another new-to-us vehicle. This time it was something more practical ... a Toyota Landcruiser Prado VX. We also got good (and bad) news on the BMW. It's fixable, but the parts have to come from Germany. They will take at least 2 weeks to get here, so we won't have the car back until the end of September.
When I wrote about buying our first car in New Zealand (New Wheels and New Opportunities), I didn't go into much detail about the purchasing process. I did mention that we bought it from a public lot where people leave their vehicles for sale, but the post was more about the person from whom I bought it than the way in which the transaction actually happened. As it turns out, there are many options for buying a used vehicle in Palmy; online auction sites, online private sales, local dealers, etc. There are also cars for sale at one of the local parks. For a $10/wk permit fee, people can leave their car at Memorial Park and post a “for sale” poster in the window (max 4 sales permits per person per year). The selection of vehicles in the lot includes clunkers, luxury vehicles, and even camper-vans. When we bought our SUV, we had a very limited budget and were focused on the clunkers.
We found what we were looking for, surrounded by much nicer vehicles and looking a little sad, but it was exactly what we needed; 4WD, diesel, roomy ... and under $3000. I called the number written on the flier and arranged to take it for a test drive. Our first surprise was that the owner didn't want to ride with us for the drive. He handed me the keys and off we went. It was beat up and smelly, and a lot of the little plastic bits on the inside were broken or missing, but it drove well. The next step was to ask the owner if I could take it to my mechanic for an inspection. This time the owner came with me, and while the car was being inspected, he and I had a coffee. The inspection went well and despite the dings, scratches, and welds on the body, the drive-train and under-carriage were in great condition for what we wanted.
The last step was to negotiate a price, and that’s where we had another surprise. I handed the man an envelope of cash and he gave me the keys. No paperwork, no title or registration, nothing to sign! That's not to say I didn't know anything about the pedigree of the car. In New Zealand, if you know the plate number and/or VIN, you can go online and learn a lot about any car. I did a police check to make sure it wasn't stolen, an ownership check to see when it was imported and how many owners there had been, and I could even see when it had failed any Warrant of Fitness (WoF) inspections and what was done to bring it up to code. I could also see that the odometer wasn't accurate ... at each ownership change and WoF inspection, the odometer reading is recorded. Somewhere along the way, someone had either replaced the odometer or disconnected it (a dodgy practice some in NZ employ to avoid paying road usage taxes). I registered the car at the post office and waited for the title papers to be mailed to me. After having my mechanic fix a couple of minor items, and putting on a new set of tyres, we were the proud owners of a beat up 1996 Nissan Terrano 4x4. Chumba-wamba (gets knocked down, but gets up again), was named by one of my oldest friends during a visit to the South Island (The Long Walk) and made the trip, including two ferry rides, without a complaint.
The mechanic I liked worked at a branch of Manawatu Toyota on the hospital property. In the 8 months we had Chumba, he got to know us fairly well. One shift, I left my lights on and walked out to a dead battery. The mechanic towed Chumba to the shop where it was put on a charger overnight. When I went to pick it up the next day, he wouldn't charge me. He told me to "bring us some pies or something", and so I did. They liked the pies so much, the next time I was in they asked where I got them (Sony Bakery on the corner of Ferguson & Albert). In one of those "small world" moments, I discovered that my mechanic's daughter is a NZ trained doctor now living and working in Canada. He had always wanted to visit Canada, and his plan was to retire soon and go for a visit. When we returned to NZ last month, I discovered he had retired and was gone from the shop. I hope he made it across the pond.
A typical blog post takes me about 6-10 hours to generate, from conceptualizing and researching, to writing and formatting, and then finally posting. Quite obviously, I don’t do this all in one 10-hour marathon session. Rather, I work on it a little bit each day. During our last stint here, I averaged about 1 post per week and Kari used to joke that my blog was “the other woman” in my life. Our new rental has a wood-burning fireplace insert, and I have a new girlfriend. Using the firebox is a lot different than a traditional open fireplace, and I have spent an awful lot of time trying to figure it out.
When we were in New Zealand two years ago, we were in a wonderful little house with amazing landlords who also happened to be great neighbours. It was a cozy home with an open and connected kitchen, dining area, and lounge. There was a fireplace in the lounge, but we couldn't use it. I can't remember if it hadn't been inspected or hadn't passed inspection, but the end result was the same ... no fires. In the winter, the house was heated by a combination of a single heat-pump in the kitchen/dining area and portable electric heaters. Electricity here is expensive (~$0.22-0.34/KWh), and older Kiwi homes are built in such a way that you can close of sections of the house, only heating the areas you are using. In the evening, we would heat the common areas. At night, we would turn on electric bed warmers and bring the portable heaters into the bedrooms, shutting off the heat to the rest of the house.
Normal fireplaces are aesthetically pleasing, provide a nice warm glow, and give off a distinctive and attractive aroma and sound. Unfortunately, their efficiency is only about 10% ... the vast majority of the heat they generate goes up the chimney. Fireplace inserts can have efficiencies >80%. They burn HOT! Not only does less heat escape, but they burn cleaner, meaning less soot and gases are released into the air. In NZ, heating with wood using a modern efficient woodburner is also relatively less expensive (~$0.14-0.20/KWh if you have to purchase your own wood ... much cheaper if you have your own wood lot like friends of ours). On our arrival to our new home, one of my tasks was getting in a supply of firewood.
Much of getting things done in New Zealand is more about who you know than what you know. It is a country of relationships. As my retirement/insurance agent said to me, "There are only about 5 million people here. Everyone knows everyone else, and everyone knows who pays their bills and who doesn't." We had experienced this during our last visit here. So often Kari would be looking online to find somewhere to stay for our various adventures. A few times, she found that nothing was available. She would call the local iSite and be told ... "Oh, so-and-so down the road has a room for hire but doesn't advertise it. I will have her contact you."
The same is true for finding firewood. One of our friends gave us the number for the person they use. I contacted him, but he didn't have much. He had plenty of wood for next season, but we are toward the end of this season and he didn't have anything that he thought was good enough to sell to me. Another friend hooked us up with his wood guy. That guy only had two trailer loads left and was happy to sell one to me. On a random Tuesday morning, he showed up in my drive and we chucked a trailer load of wood into the garage. We have a 1-car garage that was now full of wood. When I got a chance, I would spend 20 or 30 minutes stacking it, but it was going to be a week or more before we could use the garage again. Imagine my surprise when I came home from work on the Friday before Father's Day to find all the wood stacked up against the garage wall. I was chuffed! Kari and Little H had given me the best Father's Day gift I could have asked for.
Buying our newest vehicle was another adventure in Kiwi culture. When speaking with my insurance guy, he asked “only one car?” Not going into too much detail, I told him that I was waiting for Kari to arrive from the US and then we would be looking for an SUV. He mentioned that one of his other clients had an older Landcruiser for sale that looked to be in pretty good condition. A couple of days later, I got an email from the owner with a description of the vehicle and pics. It has a petrol (gasoline) engine, and we really wanted a diesel, but it was pretty much everything else we were looking for. I made arrangements to meet him and take it for a drive. Again, he offered me the keys and was ready to let me take it for a ride. I was in an unfamiliar place and told him he better come with me because I might get lost. The truck drove great ... steering was tight, no rattles or shakes. I warned him I was going to drive it a little aggressive, and he was game. I had no real problems with the truck, but it was going to need new tyres (a huge expense here), and I really wanted a diesel, so I passed.
Fast forward a couple of weeks, and the day before I wrecked the BMW (Under the Weather), he called me and told me he was going to lower the price from $15K, to $12K (or $13.5K with new tyres). At that price, I was a little more interested, but I didn’t want to commit to buying Kari a truck without her driving it. I told him I would talk with Kari when she arrived in a week. We discussed it, and decided that we couldn’t beat the price. It’s an older truck, but we could drive it a short while and get something newer and exactly what we want in a year or so. We called the owner and agreed to meet again for Kari to give it a squiz.
This is where things went full Kiwi. Fraser is a giant of a man ... big bear paws for hands. But he is the nicest, kindest, most soft-spoken kind of gent. Kari looked the truck over and we were good to go. I pulled out my phone to transfer money to him, and he said “nah”, didn’t have much time. He was on his way to Hawaii for a couple of weeks and had to get going. He handed us the keys, a sheet of paper with his bank info, and said to just transfer the money when we got home. “Just don’t leave the country or anything” he joked as he walked away. Let me make this perfectly clear ... on our promise and a handshake, he handed us the keys to the truck for which we had just agreed to pay him $12K, gave us his bank account information, and said “Pay me later. I’m going to Hawaii for two weeks.”
It gets even more Kiwi ... Fraser told us he was going to learn to surf in Hawaii and I mentioned that I wanted to go to the surf camp in Raglan NZ. That’s when he mentioned that he had a mate with a house in Raglan. He said we should call him when we are making plans to head up to Raglan and his buddy would hook us up with a place to stay. “I mean it”, he said ... and I am sure he really did.
Cowabunga ...
We found what we were looking for, surrounded by much nicer vehicles and looking a little sad, but it was exactly what we needed; 4WD, diesel, roomy ... and under $3000. I called the number written on the flier and arranged to take it for a test drive. Our first surprise was that the owner didn't want to ride with us for the drive. He handed me the keys and off we went. It was beat up and smelly, and a lot of the little plastic bits on the inside were broken or missing, but it drove well. The next step was to ask the owner if I could take it to my mechanic for an inspection. This time the owner came with me, and while the car was being inspected, he and I had a coffee. The inspection went well and despite the dings, scratches, and welds on the body, the drive-train and under-carriage were in great condition for what we wanted.
Chumba at the Tongariro Crossing
The last step was to negotiate a price, and that’s where we had another surprise. I handed the man an envelope of cash and he gave me the keys. No paperwork, no title or registration, nothing to sign! That's not to say I didn't know anything about the pedigree of the car. In New Zealand, if you know the plate number and/or VIN, you can go online and learn a lot about any car. I did a police check to make sure it wasn't stolen, an ownership check to see when it was imported and how many owners there had been, and I could even see when it had failed any Warrant of Fitness (WoF) inspections and what was done to bring it up to code. I could also see that the odometer wasn't accurate ... at each ownership change and WoF inspection, the odometer reading is recorded. Somewhere along the way, someone had either replaced the odometer or disconnected it (a dodgy practice some in NZ employ to avoid paying road usage taxes). I registered the car at the post office and waited for the title papers to be mailed to me. After having my mechanic fix a couple of minor items, and putting on a new set of tyres, we were the proud owners of a beat up 1996 Nissan Terrano 4x4. Chumba-wamba (gets knocked down, but gets up again), was named by one of my oldest friends during a visit to the South Island (The Long Walk) and made the trip, including two ferry rides, without a complaint.
The mechanic I liked worked at a branch of Manawatu Toyota on the hospital property. In the 8 months we had Chumba, he got to know us fairly well. One shift, I left my lights on and walked out to a dead battery. The mechanic towed Chumba to the shop where it was put on a charger overnight. When I went to pick it up the next day, he wouldn't charge me. He told me to "bring us some pies or something", and so I did. They liked the pies so much, the next time I was in they asked where I got them (Sony Bakery on the corner of Ferguson & Albert). In one of those "small world" moments, I discovered that my mechanic's daughter is a NZ trained doctor now living and working in Canada. He had always wanted to visit Canada, and his plan was to retire soon and go for a visit. When we returned to NZ last month, I discovered he had retired and was gone from the shop. I hope he made it across the pond.
My new girlfriend
A typical blog post takes me about 6-10 hours to generate, from conceptualizing and researching, to writing and formatting, and then finally posting. Quite obviously, I don’t do this all in one 10-hour marathon session. Rather, I work on it a little bit each day. During our last stint here, I averaged about 1 post per week and Kari used to joke that my blog was “the other woman” in my life. Our new rental has a wood-burning fireplace insert, and I have a new girlfriend. Using the firebox is a lot different than a traditional open fireplace, and I have spent an awful lot of time trying to figure it out.
When we were in New Zealand two years ago, we were in a wonderful little house with amazing landlords who also happened to be great neighbours. It was a cozy home with an open and connected kitchen, dining area, and lounge. There was a fireplace in the lounge, but we couldn't use it. I can't remember if it hadn't been inspected or hadn't passed inspection, but the end result was the same ... no fires. In the winter, the house was heated by a combination of a single heat-pump in the kitchen/dining area and portable electric heaters. Electricity here is expensive (~$0.22-0.34/KWh), and older Kiwi homes are built in such a way that you can close of sections of the house, only heating the areas you are using. In the evening, we would heat the common areas. At night, we would turn on electric bed warmers and bring the portable heaters into the bedrooms, shutting off the heat to the rest of the house.
Normal fireplaces are aesthetically pleasing, provide a nice warm glow, and give off a distinctive and attractive aroma and sound. Unfortunately, their efficiency is only about 10% ... the vast majority of the heat they generate goes up the chimney. Fireplace inserts can have efficiencies >80%. They burn HOT! Not only does less heat escape, but they burn cleaner, meaning less soot and gases are released into the air. In NZ, heating with wood using a modern efficient woodburner is also relatively less expensive (~$0.14-0.20/KWh if you have to purchase your own wood ... much cheaper if you have your own wood lot like friends of ours). On our arrival to our new home, one of my tasks was getting in a supply of firewood.
Gum Tree wood ... neatly stacked.
Much of getting things done in New Zealand is more about who you know than what you know. It is a country of relationships. As my retirement/insurance agent said to me, "There are only about 5 million people here. Everyone knows everyone else, and everyone knows who pays their bills and who doesn't." We had experienced this during our last visit here. So often Kari would be looking online to find somewhere to stay for our various adventures. A few times, she found that nothing was available. She would call the local iSite and be told ... "Oh, so-and-so down the road has a room for hire but doesn't advertise it. I will have her contact you."
The same is true for finding firewood. One of our friends gave us the number for the person they use. I contacted him, but he didn't have much. He had plenty of wood for next season, but we are toward the end of this season and he didn't have anything that he thought was good enough to sell to me. Another friend hooked us up with his wood guy. That guy only had two trailer loads left and was happy to sell one to me. On a random Tuesday morning, he showed up in my drive and we chucked a trailer load of wood into the garage. We have a 1-car garage that was now full of wood. When I got a chance, I would spend 20 or 30 minutes stacking it, but it was going to be a week or more before we could use the garage again. Imagine my surprise when I came home from work on the Friday before Father's Day to find all the wood stacked up against the garage wall. I was chuffed! Kari and Little H had given me the best Father's Day gift I could have asked for.
2005 Toyota Landcruiser Prado VX
Buying our newest vehicle was another adventure in Kiwi culture. When speaking with my insurance guy, he asked “only one car?” Not going into too much detail, I told him that I was waiting for Kari to arrive from the US and then we would be looking for an SUV. He mentioned that one of his other clients had an older Landcruiser for sale that looked to be in pretty good condition. A couple of days later, I got an email from the owner with a description of the vehicle and pics. It has a petrol (gasoline) engine, and we really wanted a diesel, but it was pretty much everything else we were looking for. I made arrangements to meet him and take it for a drive. Again, he offered me the keys and was ready to let me take it for a ride. I was in an unfamiliar place and told him he better come with me because I might get lost. The truck drove great ... steering was tight, no rattles or shakes. I warned him I was going to drive it a little aggressive, and he was game. I had no real problems with the truck, but it was going to need new tyres (a huge expense here), and I really wanted a diesel, so I passed.
Fast forward a couple of weeks, and the day before I wrecked the BMW (Under the Weather), he called me and told me he was going to lower the price from $15K, to $12K (or $13.5K with new tyres). At that price, I was a little more interested, but I didn’t want to commit to buying Kari a truck without her driving it. I told him I would talk with Kari when she arrived in a week. We discussed it, and decided that we couldn’t beat the price. It’s an older truck, but we could drive it a short while and get something newer and exactly what we want in a year or so. We called the owner and agreed to meet again for Kari to give it a squiz.
This is where things went full Kiwi. Fraser is a giant of a man ... big bear paws for hands. But he is the nicest, kindest, most soft-spoken kind of gent. Kari looked the truck over and we were good to go. I pulled out my phone to transfer money to him, and he said “nah”, didn’t have much time. He was on his way to Hawaii for a couple of weeks and had to get going. He handed us the keys, a sheet of paper with his bank info, and said to just transfer the money when we got home. “Just don’t leave the country or anything” he joked as he walked away. Let me make this perfectly clear ... on our promise and a handshake, he handed us the keys to the truck for which we had just agreed to pay him $12K, gave us his bank account information, and said “Pay me later. I’m going to Hawaii for two weeks.”
It gets even more Kiwi ... Fraser told us he was going to learn to surf in Hawaii and I mentioned that I wanted to go to the surf camp in Raglan NZ. That’s when he mentioned that he had a mate with a house in Raglan. He said we should call him when we are making plans to head up to Raglan and his buddy would hook us up with a place to stay. “I mean it”, he said ... and I am sure he really did.
Cowabunga ...
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