By Bek Thomas*
Photo: Supplied / Bek Thomas
Wagga Wagga, the summer of 1988. Kylie and Jason get married and the future of Rickroll is cemented as 'Never Gonna Give You Up' rockets to number one on the charts around the world.
It's 30 degrees Celsius when we step on the train for the nearly seven-hour trip to Sydney, where my oldest sister is at university. Mum and Dad don't reckon it will be as hot when we finally reach Christchurch. And definitely colder when we get to our final destination - Dunedin, where my Gran and the rest of Mum's extended family live.
I'm eight years old and my first 747 plane ride beckons. It helps spark a life-long love of travel. It's even more exciting because I get to sit with my two sisters further down the plane, while Mum and Dad are in the "baby carrier" seat section with our little brother near the front.
It's economy in its purest form - one giant screen for everyone to watch the same film, heads jostling to try and catch the action. Each armrest has an ashtray, though the smoking section is at the back of the plane. We notice Dad repeatedly stretches his legs in that direction.
Bek Thomas at a park in the South Island with her family in the summer of 1988. Photo: Supplied / Bek Thomas
Bek Thomas' Dad introduced them to the three-wheeler motorbike in the summer of 1988. Photo: Supplied / Bek Thomas
When we step off the plane in Christchurch, expecting the cooler weather, it's 30C, which makes us question the accuracy of our parents' New Zealand memories. The city feels quaint with its gently winding river, the cathedral and mock-Tudor restaurant Tiffanys.
Christchurch is the starting point for our next train journey, on The Southerner to Dunedin, where the greenness is in stark contrast to the scenery on our Wagga to Sydney journey.
In Dunedin, we stay with Gran in her beautiful old 1930s bungalow, and I'm excited to bunk down with my sisters, while Mum, Dad and baby brother are in the spare room.
Gran lives in St Clair, only two blocks from the beach and the same distance to Jacob's Ladder. For a kid from an inland Australian country town having both is a wild novelty. You take an outside staircase as a 'shortcut'? The mix of smells; the briny sea air, the Chinese fish and chip takeaway across the road and rain on the warm road is a memory that never leaves me.
Back row: Bek Thomas' sister Christine, Dad holding Greg. Middle row, from left, Aunty Gloria, Aunty Elaine, and cousin Victoria. Front row, from left, Nicole, Bek, Gran, and her Mum. Photo: Supplied / Bek Thomas
A lot of our time is spent walking to the beach, with an obligatory ice cream along the way. When there, we paddle and make our way along to St Kilda which has the delightful combination of mini golf right next to dinosaur park. That's a lot of energy spent, so another ice cream is needed as fuel for the walk back.
Bek Thomas with her dad at Bluff, where she scored a certificate for visiting 'the most southern port in the Southern Hemisphere' in 1988. Photo: Supplied / Bek Thomas
Back at Gran's place, there are scones waiting, or if we're lucky, ginger kisses. It's one of the many things I'd never had before coming to New Zealand.
During the trip, we get treated to lots of new things. There's a hangi at my cousins' place, where we tease each other about pronouncing the word "six". I try whitebait, one of which manages to find its way into my hokey pokey ice cream, its little eyes poking out. Then there are the orange milkshakes and cheese rolls. It's all topped off by a fabulous truck trip with my sister, cousin and uncle on one of his runs for Mainland cheese.
Up near Oamaru, Dad introduces us to a three-wheeler motorbike, hooning around a paddock as we hold on for dear life. In Invercargill, we see the birthplace of my sister. In Bluff, I score a certificate for visiting 'the most southern port in the Southern Hemisphere'.
Seventeen years later, the seed that six-week trip planted re-surfaces and I up sticks to follow my roots back to New Zealand.
*Bek Thomas is RNZ's programme manager, business/support services.
