Monday, January 25, 2016

Austerity measures

As you can imagine, 18 months without work leads to some serious austerity measures. Fortunately between my partner getting a part-time job and our international student payments offset some of the costs, but we both dipped deep into our savings. (My partner's ex has not paid child support in two and a half years, and New Zealand lets him get away with that because he works out of the country and they decided it wasn't worth the hassle!)

Oddly, the last 'luxury' was free range eggs, and we were staring down the barrel of homelessness before we finally started buying battery farm eggs (which were half the price). My partner has already said the first thing she is going to do when I get paid is go back to free range eggs.

Of course, the eggs don't represent luxury, they represent the ability to make a choice. (Of course it could be argued a better choice would be to raise our own chickens, or to not eat eggs in the first place!)

Apart from the eggs, we've lived very frugally: no holidays, no major purchases, no cable TV. Clothes came from charity shops and gifts were often handmade. That said, we still did a heck of a lot, but there was always a sense of a brick wall waiting for us to smash into it.

Now that I have an income again, the brick wall has been averted, but the only  extravagance -- apart from the eggs -- is to take the kids to California to meet my family, and the only reason that's possible is because I will be travelling to the US and UK for work.

Otherwise we continue with the austerity measures until the savings have been adequately topped up, in the hopes that next year we'll be in a position to buy a house.

(On a related note, we took the kids to see the new house today and they loved it. One even asked if we could move earlier! I just pointed out we have a lot to pack in the next two weeks...)

Thursday, January 21, 2016

Moving again

I just talked about moving 12 times in the past 10 years and now I have to move again!

When we rented this house, we were hopeful that within a year I'd be gainfully employed and the property distribution between my partner and her ex would be settled, so we could buy a new house. Needless to say, neither of those happened. But we were perfectly happy in our rental except for the cold downstairs, so I offered to make a deal with the owners.

Rather than let the rental go month-to-month, which is normally what happens after the first year, I offered to sign another one year lease in exchange for them putting in a heat pump downstairs. It seemed reasonable to me, as we knew they intended to reoccupy the house at some point, so they would benefit from it, too.

They responded they would be reoccupying the house in May.

May is a terrible time to move house in NZ. It's winter and nobody else is moving, so there is very little on the market. Almost all house moves occur in January, before the school year starts. We got this letter right before Christmas so we decided to start looking straight away.

Remarkably, the house we tried to rent the year before--but someone else pipped us to the post--was back on the market! It wasn't perfect, the kitchen was dated, the carpet was cream colored, they didn't accept pets and the cat the vet said would be dead 18 months ago is still going strong. But it had two living areas, four bedrooms, two and a half baths plus a study. (Initially we were going to convert the study into a fifth bedroom and get another international student, but then I got the job offer working from home so it will be my office.)

It's also much closer to the shops, library, recreation centre, swimming pool. It's near the main road but at the end of a cul de sac, which is surprisingly quiet. The only sounds you hear are the birds and the stream that runs through the front yard.

Our international student returns Jan 29, the kids go back to school Feb 2, we move Feb 5 and I start my new job Feb 9. I will also be going to the UK for a couple of weeks (courtesy of my new company!) but the dates haven't been decided. 2016 definitely seems to be the year it all comes together.

And hopefully 2017 will see us buying a house, although realistically we'll want to stay in Karori until the youngest one finishes primary school* in two years, and I'm not sure we want to buy in Karori or someplace more convenient for the colleges.

* In New Zealand, primary school is often years 1-8, although in some areas  primaries are 1-6 and then intermediate school years 7-8. College is years 9-13, and please don't ask me why they call them colleges. In Wellington most of the colleges are single sex--only two are co-ed--and for some reason the boys colleges are on the opposite end of town as the girls! So in two years we'll have to decide which college to send the youngest to and then move into the catchment area for both the girls and boys schools.

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Airbnb

Our international student, who has been with us since February, went home for the summer holidays (in December!), leaving a hole in our family as well as our finances. She'll be back end of January so we can deal with the family part it, but as for finances we spoke to the university to see if they had any summer students, but they didn't. On a whim, I posted a photo of the room to Airbnb.com. Less than an hour later, I had three guests coming that night!

Of course, Airbnb doesn't let multiple people book the same room--I got separate enquiries from a couple and a single woman. As the eldest child has been staying with her dad for the past six months, I made the command decision to rent it out.  That also meant I had to take out all her stuff and clean it from top to bottom; I had to do the same for the international student, as well.  Did I mention we also had friends coming for dinner that night, and we had put out an open invitation to the community to celebrate Hanukkah with us that evening?

So I spent the next six hours cleaning, doing laundry, making dinner and organising! By the time our Airbnb guest arrived, I was shattered. Worse, my partner was (understandably) upset that I had put all of her daughter's stuff in the garage. I was already shattered and we were bickering all evening.  Hopefully none of the 15-odd guests noticed.

The Airbnb people couldn't have been nicer.  The single girl was a 25-year-old French student spending a year working and travelling in New Zealand. The kids enjoyed her so much, they asked her if she could stay longer!  The Dutch couple were also very nice, but they arrived late and left early so we hardly saw them.  Since then we've hosted around a dozen people, from China to Latvia, who have all been lovely.  We weren't sure how the kids were going to handle it, but they seem to have enjoyed having visitors as much as I have.

Financially it was also quite successful, earning about $800 over the holidays.  (We could have made much more, but it is our holidays as well so we blocked off quite a few days, and turned away several requests because they wanted to stay more than a week and we didn't want to make that kind of commitment.)  As the holidays draw to a close, we have one more couple coming this weekend (from Germany) and then our international student returns on the 29th.

Comparing Airbnb to my B&B days is apples and oranges.  One was a full-time job and I worked hard to make it a 'luxury' experience.  The other was letting people share my home, meet my kids, and have dinner with us.  It was much more laid back, but also much more intimate, and I could get into discussions with guests I could have never done in the B&B.  (The woman from East Germany was particularly fascinating!)  The Airbnb guests were also much more open; they played board games with the kids and watched movies with us.

Of course there are some Airbnb horror stories out there, although all the ones I saw involved rental properties, not family homes, plus each guest has 'reviews' from other hosts and you can reject a reservation request for any reason.  I found it a very positive and rewarding experience, and if you have a spare room (or even a spare sofa!) I highly recommend you sign up and see what happens.  As long as you're honest and set the expectations, your guests will be happy.

Saturday, January 16, 2016

Job

Isn't life strange.  I've spent a year trying to get a work permit in New Zealand, and just as I accomplish it, I get a job offer from the UK. For a company in the US.  Working from New Zealand.

A bit of background: In 2000, I worked with someone on a project in San Francisco, and then again a few years later at Honda.  We kept in touch even after I moved to the UK and he moved to Quebec/Boston/New York. In 2013, he moved to the UK and so we saw each other regularly.  He tried several times to get me to come work for him, but he always seemed to be working on high-pressure projects, and I was always too lazy.

Six months ago he had teamed up with someone from that same project in San Francisco 16 years ago, and they developed an idea for a new product.  They had just managed to get seed funding to bring the product to market, and now needed a couple of developers to make it happen.  Even though I was now 12,000 miles away, he called me.

I'd like to say I accepted because I was desperate and had no money, but that's not true.  In fact, just the opposite: Since I now had NZ residency I was confident I would have no trouble getting a job. In addition, working with people in California and UK was going to be a nightmare just finding a timeslot to have a conference call; in the past I didn't like working from home; I'd have to travel every couple of months; and because the project was a startup, the pay wasn't great (although it did come with some equity in the company).  I also hadn't done any serious development in about ten years, and was used to managing a team of developers rather than doing it myself.

So there were many reasons to turn it down, but I accepted simply because the project was really interesting.  In addition, I knew I could work really well with my friend, and when I travelled it would either be to the UK or California, so I could also visit friends and family.  Working from home was an issue when I lived on my own and never saw anyone; now that I have a family that won't be a problem, and it actually gives us more flexibility since I'll be home when the kids leave for school and come home.  It will still be hard to find a timeslot but since I am managing my own time, making a call at 10pm isn't a problem.  And because I really think the product will be a big success, I think (hope) the equity will be worth a lot in a few years.

There are still some formalities to finalise but if all goes well, I could start as early as next week, and I may be in the UK as early as February 10.

Thursday, December 10, 2015

Christmas newsletter

I know I've been quiet for the past 8 months, because things have been a bit crazy, and it was too difficult to write about them. However, all is good in kiwi-land, so here's a recap of the year:

In January, we moved from Kapiti, an hour from Wellington, to Karori, a leafy suburb 10 minutes from central Wellington. Part of the reason for the move was that the girls' dad was sending them to a private school an hour away, and the commute was taking its toll. From the new house it was a 10-minute walk. They loved it, which is probably why their dad, six weeks after enrolling them, announced he could "no longer afford" it, and we had to move them to the local public school. Fortunately the other reason we moved was because my partner anticipated this, and wanted to be in zone for good public schools.

In February we moved into the new house, and it promptly fell apart. Seriously, the garage door fell off, the plumbing backed up three times, the electrics needed to be replaced, the stove stopped working; the attic fan started making a racket; we had builders coming and going constantly. The owner had told us he was going to do "some painting" but we were a bit shocked to find the entire house wrapped in scaffolding for 6 weeks! (They were painting the roof, which apparently is a thing in New Zealand.) The cat loved it, as she somehow figured out a way to get in and out through the second floor window.

Also in February, two days after we moved in, our international student moved in as well. I can't tell you how lucky we got--she is pleasant, helpful and studious, with a wry sense of humour. Coming from China, she was not happy to find that not only were we (mostly) vegetarian, gluten-free and we didn't want any pork or shellfish products in the house. That's all of her comfort food gone! Her main complaint was about sandwiches, but she realised early on that the other kids considered her lucky that she could have sandwiches.

In March my partner went to work, and in April she changed jobs. After 15 years of being a homemaker, she was certain nobody would hire her. She had two interviews and when she was offered the first job, at a high school, she accepted straight away. Then she was offered the second job, which was at a university, walking distance from home, and paid more. She took all of 3 seconds to submit her resignation to the high school. (That's not true; she actually agonised over it for days, which is even sillier.) So she went to work leaving me (me!) as Mr. Mom! In my life's trajectory, I certainly never saw that coming. It was certainly a crash course in child minding, and I cringed every time I heard myself saying, "Wait 'til your mother gets home!" Meanwhile, I was starting to get desperate about the job hunt. I'd only had a handful of interviews because nobody would even bother talking to someone who doesn't have a work permit, even though it is very easy (and free!) to sponsor someone in NZ. My tourist visa expired in May and I wasn't sure what to do. Fortunately my partner realised that, while they do require 12 months of co-habitation to consider residency, they would give me a temporary work permit to reach 12 months! I applied in May and received it in June, valid until December. Unfortunately, I quickly found that a 6-month work visa is as useful as a chocolate teapot.

In April, I co-managed the passover dinner at the synagogue for about 50 people, including the US ambassador to New Zealand. It was originally billed as "organising" but then quickly morphed into "catering." Essentially what happened is that person who has managed it for donkey's years said she was going to be out of the country this year, and so all of the people who helped her every year decided to take a holiday, as well! So not only were we scrambling to find people to help, but I was home wrapping 50 fish fillets in tin foil, and the kids were chopping 50 tomatoes to make a salad. It was crazy but also a lot of fun, and we got a lot of compliments afterwards.

At the end of April the girls started at the public school, which was rocky at first because the other kids already had their social cliques. After a week it had started to get better when their dad returned and drove it off the rails. He's always tried to undermine the children's relationship with their mother, but thankfully only the eldest was really affected--the younger two were upset by his nonsense, of course, but they seemed to understand it was his nonsense and they left it at the door. The eldest, unfortunately, always bore the brunt of it and when her dad visited, she was always left emotionally scarred. On this particular visit, he casually forgot he was the one that let them start at one school and then forced them to change. He blamed their mother and told them if they lived with him, they could go back to their old schools. On Mother's Day, ironically enough, he returned the kids in such a state of upset that we had to cancel all of our plans and send them to bed early. That's when the 14-year-old decided to run away.

I say "run away" but her dad reported she was with him a few hours later. In addition, she later told the lawyer how scared she was waiting for the train on her own. However, I knew (because I'd been to the train station twice) that the trains weren't running that evening; it was bus replacement, so my belief is that she contacted her dad and he came and picked her up, then told her to lie about it. It is not the first time he has asked her to lie--after the separation, my partner had changed all the locks, and he told the eldest (who was ten at the time) to steal a key for him. Fortunately she was caught in the act.

Anyway, now that she was at her dad's, he refused to return her. According to the lawyer, "he retained her beyond the terms of the custody agreement." When you separate in NZ (and presumably elsewhere), you need to file a private custody agreement or the court will issue a parenting order. In this case, with the dad out of the country most of the time, the custody agreement was straightforward: "In their mom's care at all times except as agreed by both parents." So we called the police who told us they can't enforce a custody agreement, only a parenting order! So what, pray tell, is the point of requiring a private custody agreement if nobody will enforce it? Unfortunately we've come across a lot of nonsense like that in NZ family law.

So the next two months were completely tied up in the court and with lawyers and even a court-appointed psychologist to determine what was in the child's best interest. In the end, however, they completely ignored what was in the child's best interest and fell back on the excuse that a 14-year-old can "vote with her feet" and therefore she could stay wherever she liked. In their defence, I'm sure they deal with so many abused and neglected children, that a privileged girl was not on their priority list. Even the psychologist, who was quite senior and came highly recommended, didn't even bother to follow up with the school counsellor who described their dad as a sociopath! So it is now December and we're actually no closer to a resolution than we were in May! We do know the eldest, since she's been in her dad's "care," has missed almost 25% of school and, despite being incredibly bright, got no awards this year. (She is usually on the podium at prizegiving.) She has alienated herself from her friends and the synagogue, is not participating in any sports or music, and has pretty much wasted the entire year. At 14 this is not only devastating to her self-esteem, but next year she starts taking the NCEA exams, which determines her university rankings, and this year was meant to prepare her for that. So no matter what the outcome, we know next year will be very difficult for her, and it's likely this has already limited her university options.

In June, a university friend of my partner arrived from the UK, about 15 years after she promised she would visit. After her visit, she said if she had visited 15 years ago, she would never have left. She rented a mini-van that had been converted into a sleeper, complete with sink and stove, and drove the length and breadth of the north island, visiting the Coromandel, learning to dive in Poor Knight's Island (one of the best dive sites in the world), soaking the hot springs and generally having an incredible time whilst I sat at home futilely trying to find a job. One of the kids went to winter camp (yes, in June!) near Auckland so the rest of us all piled into the mini-van and drove the ten hours to Auckland, spent a few days, then flew home. I actually hated Auckland; it reminded me of Los Angeles. Wellington is much nicer.

July and August were quiet, except for the chattering of our teeth. It doesn't get particularly cold in Wellington -- with lows of 5C / 40F -- but the houses are so badly built that the wind just cuts right through them. We were watching every penny* and so the heater was on as little as possible, and we all dressed in three layers. The worst was downstairs--when the owners had extended the property, they neglected to include any heating in the new bedrooms at all! We put in electric radiators but they cost a fortune to run, and the only way they can keep a room warm is if they stay on all the time, which we forbid.

Things got very exciting in October. The middle child was turning 13, and it was her bat mitzvah. She'd been practicing for a year, although at the beginning of the year she was very lackadaisical and we were very concerned the service would be a disaster. But as the date approached she knuckled down and did an incredible job. She even asked me (well, demanded really) to give a speech, and I got a little emotional on the bimah. However, no matter how beautifully she did or how incredibly her mom managed it on a shoestring budget, the one thing that will probably stick with her the rest of her life is that her dad chose not to attend.

Of course we also had to celebrate her birthday, and the youngest child's birthday was two weeks after that. Their grandmother had come from the UK for a month, so we got to know each other quite well. (I'd already met her once in the UK, plus over skype many times.) She is a dear woman and the kids loved having her around. We also did Halloween with our American friends. While it's not as big as America, it's more popular than in the UK, and the kids got quite a few lollies, plus a tin of jam and tuna. (Seriously, someone had run out of candy and started emptying their pantry!) Our international student carved her first pumpkin and we watched "The Nightmare Before Christmas," which is an annual tradition with me.

In November the cat celebrated one year since the vet said she would die within six weeks. She is still in renal failure and sleeps most of the day, but then she's a cat so it's hard to tell. I turned 46 and in fact have two friends with birthdays on the same week, so we went together to see James Bond film. (We called it a boys' night out, even though we went at 11am.)

In December, the synagogue was organising a weekend camping trip which was abruptly cancelled the week before due to a lack of registrations. I knew one of the organisers was gutted because she'd put so much time and effort into it, so I suggested we have a "mini-camp" at the synagogue, including a sleepover. You would have thought I would have learned my lesson in April not to raise my hand, but next thing I knew I was in charge! We had about 50 people for lunch, 25 people for dinner, and 10 kids for the sleepover. It was a great success and as no good deed goes unpunished, I've been asked to organise next year's Purim celebration! (I'm suggesting a cross-dressing musical version. If that doesn't get me out of it, nothing will.)

As the school year wound up, and our international student prepared to go back to China on December 10, she asked us to put up a Christmas tree! The kids have always had a tree, so this wasn't an issue, it was just putting one up right in the middle of Hannukah! Fortunately our student has decided to continue her studies next year, so she'll be back in two months. She's such a pleasure to have, we're very fortunate.

And last but not least, remember that my work permit expired in December? I applied for residency in September, 12 months after I arrived, and in November I was told by immigration that I would be denied because I did not have any proof of living with my partner in Kapiti! I had submitted references from a dozen people, but that was not considered 'official evidence.' I panicked, but I contacted an immigration consultant who reassured me it would be fine. I also went through an old pile of paperwork and miraculously found a holiday card a friend in the States had mailed to me in Kapiti last November! I'd kept the envelope because it had her address and I planned to write a thank-you letter, but the envelope disappeared into a drawer and I forgot all about it. Because the cancellation had a date stamp, it was considered 'official evidence' and I was approved three days before I had to leave the country! Hurrah! So I am now a NZ resident, which means I no longer have to worry about work permits. Too bad Wellington completely shuts down for December and January.

* NZ has actually gotten rid of the penny, and the nickel as well, so when you buy in cash the amount if rounded to the nearest ten cents.

Friday, May 8, 2015

The last 10 years

I've written before about how I lived in the same house for 10 years, then between 2006 and 2008 I moved 7 times!  I just filled out an online form listing all of my addresses for the past 10 years and the total is now 12:

  1. 2006 - Lomita
  2. 2006 - Pennsylvania
  3. 2006 - Lomita
  4. 2007 - Dixon
  5. 2007 - Downtown LA
  6. 2008 - Earls Court
  7. 2008 - Brentford
  8. 2009 - Ealing
  9. 2010 - East Finchley
  10. 2011 - Barnet
  11. 2011 - Reading
  12. 2014 - Paraparaumu
  13. 2015 - Karori
(This doesn't include the times I've been technically homeless, which is actually quite considerable.)

The thought of moving again fills me with dread, but of course I'm in a rental house so it is inevitable...

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Teenagers

It's hard to understand how the human race has survived. I mean, it's hard to imagine Primitive Caveman--who hasn't read any books on listening to teenagers, being supportive, and unconditional loving--not ending his bloodline the first time his 12-year-old mouthed off at him.

Children spend the first two years being completely dependant on you, and the next 20 years expecting you to wait on them. Whilst you're busy trying to ensure they get a good education and have lots of opportunities, they're busy screaming because the shirt they put in the laundry basket 20 minutes ago still isn't clean.

The only consolation is that everyone else has to deal with the same nonsense at some point, even the smug person with plenty of advice will at some point be curled up in the fetal position, crying in frustration and exhaustion.

The only advice I can offer is to remember it's temporary, that children change moods more often than underwear, and that your job is to keep them safe, not make them happy. To paraphrase Nigel Latta, the hardest thing is to make sure their problems remain their problems. You're too busy working, cooking, cleaning and occasionally sleeping to try and fix all of their issues, especially as they've created most of them themselves. And besides, even if you could fix them, your children wouldn't learn very much from them.

So yes, it's very hard when your baby is sitting outside your bedroom door at 10 at night screaming and crying because she's been playing games on her phone for two hours and suddenly realised she needs something in the morning and wants to make it your problem, but remember that if you fix it, you're just ensuring she'll be back next week with the same issue. Make sure her problem stays her problem, and she'll still be back next week but you'll have gotten a little more sleep.

P.S. This was actually supposed to be a rant about me having to go to the supermarket at 10pm last night because one of the kids took the last roll of toilet paper and not only failed to tell anyone, but actually put the empty plastic bag back in the cupboard, so we thought there was more. I'm not sure how I got on this other issue.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

NCEA

Just as I figured out the English education system, I now have to figure out the New Zealand system, which is completely different than both the US and UK, but just as complex and ridiculous. NCEA stands for National Certificate of Educational Achievement, and it works something like this:

In year 11 (about 15 years old), every child in New Zealand is given NCEA level 1 exams in their chosen subjects, which are graded by a small army of teachers and ranked as "achieved," "merit," "excellence" or "not achieved" (i.e. failed). The results of these exams are then promptly thrown out and never seen again.

In year 12 (16 years old), every child in New Zealand is given NCEA level 2 exams in their chosen subjects, which are similarly graded, ranked and thrown out, never to be seen again.

In year 13 (17 years old), every child in New Zealand is given NCEA level 3 exams in their chosen subjects, which are similarly graded, ranked and then put through a meat grinder to generate a ranking number which determines university admissions.

The meat grinder goes something like this:
  1. Each subject contains a number of components, which are worth different credits. For example, an essay may be worth 5 points or an exam may be worth 10 points. You can only count a maximum of 24 points per subject.
  2. You can take as many subjects as you wish, but you can only count credits from five subjects.
  3. You can only count your "Top 80" credits.  That is, if you got 20 "excellence" credits, 20 "merit" credits and 60 "achieved" credits, then you would count the 20 excellence, 20 merit, and 40 achieved, for a total of 80.
  4. You then multiply the number of "excellence" credits by 4, "merit" credits by 3, "achieved" credits by 2, and add them all up.  Using the previous example, that would be 80 excellence, 60 merit and 80 achieved, or 220 points.
  5. Universities have their own requirements for each programme, so a Bachelor of Arts degree may require 150 points while a Bachelor of Engineering requires 250 points with 17 credits in Calculus and 16 credits in Physics. 
Of course, even though only the level 3 results count, you can't take the level 3 exams if you haven't passed the level 2 exams, and you can't take those if you haven't passed the level 1 exams, and you have to decide your subjects in year 10 so you can sign up for the right classes in year 11, which means you have to figure out what you want to do in college when you're 14 years old!!

Absolutely insane.

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Pet cemetery

The cat is going to die.

That's not a threat; the cat is fantastic, a siamese mix with a wonderful temperament whose only vice is that she can't resist a lap. No, she's going to die because she's old and her kidneys are shutting down. The vet gave her 3 months to live, and that was 9 months ago.

So every day is a gift, although of course we all take her for granted (and complain when she sheds on us). But what bothers me most isn't that she's going to die, it's that I have no idea what to do when she goes.

I've never had to bury a pet, other than fish. I've known people who cremated their pets, but I find that a little bizarre. We're in a rental house, so it seems slightly awkward to leave the cat in someone else's backyard. How deep to dig? I'm not even sure I have a shovel. Or a box. What about a plaque?

You'd think, knowing the cat is going to die, I'd be prepared for it, but in the end I'm sure I'll ignore the problem and improvise at the time.

The cat probably deserves better.

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Karori

Karori is Maori for "rollercoaster."* It's in a valley in the hills above Wellington, about 160 meters (500 feet) above sea level.  To look at a topographic map, it appears quite smooth and orderly, with the main road running along the basin of the valley:


However, that purple covers a difference of 70 meters (230 feet)! Birdwood Steet, for example, is only 600 meters long but rises by 50 meters!  Karori Road varies from 139 meters to 178 meters, and it's not a simple grade but a series of hills and valleys.  The drive to Wright's Hill (the green blob at the bottom) is 3.5km but climbs another 150 meters!  In other words, Karori is a cycling nightmare.

I bought a used bike off the Internet, sight-unseen.  It was the wrong size, rusty and the gears didn't work--but it was cheap!  I took it to the local bike shop which only charged me $40 NZD for a standard service, and the gears worked perfectly--for a day. The next day they were frozen in place again.  However, I didn't bother complaining because I realised that I would never change gears in Karori -- I was either climbing straight uphill in first gear, or screaming downhill at terrifying speeds.  There was no point shifting gears so I could go faster!

That said, it could be worse. According to this article, when Karori was settled in 1840, the only access was a Maori footpath! By 1843 they had built a road along Curtis Pass, about 260 meters above sea level. It was so steep that passengers had to walk up one section as the horses couldn't pull them! In 1897 the residents voted to pay £4000 to build a new road. It was supposed to take 6 months but took 3 years and cost £8000.  It was still good value, as today it is still the main road into Karori.  (For a suburb of 15,000 people, there are only 3 roads that access it!)

My point isn't to complain about the hills or the roads or even my bicycle, but to compare Wellington to San Francisco.  You see, SF is the only place I ever wanted to live in the US, and I appear to have done just that. In addition to the hills, the bay, and the weather--if  Mark Twain's "the coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco" were true (it isn't) he would have felt right at home in Karori--even the ethnic diversity is similar, with Wellington about 76% white and 16% Asian, while San Francisco is 49% white and 33% Asian.

Of course, there are some differences: Somes Island has a wildlife sanctuary rather than a maximum security prison; in the Mercer 2014 International Quality of Living Survey, Wellington was ranked as the 12th best city in the world while San Francisco was #27; Numbeo.com calculates it costs 30% less in Wellington to maintain the same standard of living as San Francisco; and where San Francisco has 837,000 residents crammed into 47 square miles (that's 17,179 people per square mile!), Wellington city (including Karori) only has 200,000 people over 112 square miles (roughly 10% of SF's population density!)

So perhaps I found an even better version of Baghdad by the Bay.

* Of course I'm making that up.  Maori for "roller coaster" is takai rōnaki.