Posts with tag: event

Letters from the Southern Man

Migrating is more than just filling in forms and submitting paperwork, its a complex process that will test even the most resilient of people. 

Understanding New Zealand is paramount to your immigration survival and to give you a realistic view of the country, its people and how we see the world, read our weekly Southern Man blogs. Often humorous, sometimes challenging, but always food for thought.

Matapouri and Mermaid Pools

 

Happy New Year and can I take this opportunity of wishing you all the very best for 2012.

So where to begin with this, my first Letter from New Zealand in 2012? 

We could talk immigration policy, pass marks and so on but that would be a bit dull.

Although I have only been away for three weeks it seems like months. Over my summer (such as summer has been up this end of the country this year) I once again realised that the more time I spend travelling around this country the more I appreciate how lucky my family and I were being born here. And I love to share it with you…….

I couldn’t get out of the office fast enough toward the end of December. For Immagine NZ, 2011 was most definitely a year of two halves. The first presented difficult trading conditions given the ongoing (but still unofficial) cuts to migrant numbers and the difficulties many potential clients continued to experience selling up their homes in order to free up the cash to make migrating possible, but the second half was strong with December being our best in 23 years. Either world property markets are starting to free up or people are just a little more desperate to get somewhere civilised and are taking whatever equity they can extract from their houses and just doing it. Possibly before things get worse.

We appear to have hit the ground running in 2012 with a busy first week. Having a working knowledge of the crazy Australian General Skills Category and related visa categories has allowed us to offer clients greater ‘offerings’ and as I have mentioned before I enjoy using Australia as a backdoor to New Zealand as it often presents a far less complex visa pathway than coming directly to New Zealand. 

I want to tell you a little more about a special part of New Zealand where my family and I spent a few days last week with close friends.

Matapouri Bay. Shortly after finishing posting this I am heading back up there for a few more days (the sun is out – what am I to do?) to pick up my youngest son and enjoy a friend’s 50th  birthday tonight. Alfresco dining under a balmy summer sky, big trestle tables with brightly coloured tablecloths groaning under a heavy load of barbequed meats and seafood, with crisp salads prepared from local gardens, sweet hot summer corn dripping in melted butter, lit by large candles , a few beers and wine – I cannot wait!

For me there is nothing like spending time around a barbeque (braai to our South African friends) at night with close friends and family, a good local boutique brewery produced beer or world class local wine in one hand eating the best of the local produce and kai moana (seafood) with the other. 

The fishing, when the weather has allowed, has been fantastic the past few weeks. They are biting and biting hard and we have eaten and given away many a good sized snapper over the past ten days. So many I confess I am almost all fished out. Catching and consuming I mean. Well, almost…….

Matapouri is an absolute gem. If I could upload a few photos to The Letter you could see what I am talking about but as I can’t(!) you will need to rely on http://www.tutukakacoastnz.com/matapouri-bay/ in the meantime. Check it out.

A smallish coastal village about two and a half hours drive north of Auckland on the East coast (my favourite side of the island) this sickle shaped bay is protected from the open ocean that lies beyond its two headlands. An estuary flows out at one end and is guarded by mangrove forests which are the spawning grounds for many types of inshore fish including sharks (yes, really), home to sting rays and provide predator free nesting sites for many native birds. The headlands are covered in dense native forest.

Last Thursday we took a walk around the northern end of the bay to visit and swim in the (locally famous) Mermaid Pools. Virtually inaccessible to all but mountain goats and very determined humans the afternoon began with a wander though a reserve covered in regenerating and mature native forest. The sun was out and the humidity was high as it always is at this time of year. It was a 25 degree day and the humidity was probably around 90%. The enormous trees acting to keep the sun off us also provided thick, sultry warm air – the type you can feel when you breathe it in.  With the village on one side and steep forested hills on the other, a great track has been carved into the soft dark soils by the local Council making the initial climb somewhat comfortable but none the less by the time we got to the top of the first hill after perhaps 10 minutes the heart was pumping pretty hard.

From the top we enjoyed a spectacular view north all the way up to Cape Brett (home to the Hole in the Rock for those of you that have been to the Bay of Islands) which was shimmering blue on a distant horizon. Five minutes or so of further walking along the ridge we arrived at the first lookout and rest stop. Picture sheer cliffs on both sides of you with trees clinging by their root systems (if they were humans I’d be thinking toenails) and a drop of probably 100 metres to the roiling sea, whitecaps and swells generated by a strong ocean breeze lining up to throw themselves at the shoreline. The two metre swells crashed against the craggy greywacke rocks that lined the pebble strewn beaches. Below us Gannets wheeled and dived into the bay, like bunker busting bombs, popping up to the surface with a plump wiggling silver fish in their beaks more often than not. A cooling breeze demanded rest and a few holiday snapshots.

We set off along the trail again and as we walked stole glimpses of the ocean to our left. Sheep grazed in the fields to our right – the old New Zealand and the new. I definitely prefer the old.

Having picked our way down onto the sand dunes we enjoyed a different assortment of native plants – the sand was covered in native flax and blankets of grasses with seed pods that look and feel like rabbits’ tails waving in the breeze.

Then up the next headland and on toward the Mermaid Pools. I suspect this headland is an abandoned Maori pa (fortified village). What appeared to be old kumara (sweet potato) pits were dotted throughout this forest but now trees grow where once the food was stored. These sorts of headlands were popular with Maori as they were easy to defend thanks to their extremely (death defying actually) steep slopes. So steep in places we were hauling ourselves up for 30 metres on (and between) the twisted root systems of ancient Pohutukawa trees and thinking crampons may have been the order of the day! Saplings provided handholds. You hoped like hell you didn’t slip.

When we got to the top and had caught our breath I marvelled at the power of nature to take back what is hers when we leave her to it. Now covered in regenerating forest of Nikau palms, Karaka and Kowhai trees the light filtered through and provided us with an explosion of differently hued greens courtesy of the trees around us. The ground was thick with seedlings wherever there was enough light and I stopped and collected seeds of some of my favourite native trees for planting back at my beach house.  There was that pleasant, mother earth smell of rainforest – damp soils, sweating vegetation and rotting wood.  

When we emerged on the other side of the summit the view was magnificent – directly out to sea lies the Poor Knights Islands – a marine reserve and one of the top ten dive sites in the world. The sea a deep deep blue, the rocks jagged, intimidating and unforgiving. The spray of the waves as they crashed onto their hardness the purest white. And below us the Mermaid Pools. Two swimming pool size rock pools that lie just above the high tide mark they have only one opening to the ocean. The pools themselves were about 3 metres deep in their middle. Just for a second I thought I saw two mermaids swimming in the largest pool but they turned out to be a couple of female German tourists – close, but no cigar……

We wound our way carefully down the path toward the ocean and the very inviting looking pools. Slipping and sliding, grabbing at the flaxes that lined the path we were being beaten by the sun again but fanned by the ocean breeze. Ahead of us the land disappeared abruptly into the deep churning Pacific Ocean. 

Off with the shirt, Raybans and Fedora and into the pool!

Because the ocean never reaches it but the sea gently flushes it through one narrow opening the water never stagnates and was as clear as any seawater I have ever been in. There were kina (prickly sea eggs) and crabs a plenty. Strands of smooth seaweed provided shelter for tiny fish and shrimp that had been washed in on a passing swell. The walls of the pool were dotted with limpets, cats-eyes and other assorted molluscs. Surrounded by sharp angular rocks the pools themselves were very conveniently full of small motorcar sized boulders covered in a light salmon coloured seaweed. Pale, soft on the feet and very inviting.

A truly wonderful place to cool off.

At the end of the pool where the rock face heads back up the headland is the ‘jumping rock’. It doesn’t – you are meant to.  Wedged like a gargoyle about 20 metres above the deep water below it is a favourite place for teenage lads to impress the girls by jumping, bombing or to really make a statement, dive off. Shades of cliff diving at Acapulco and no less scary. 

Although my days of being interested in impressing teenage girls are far behind me I none the less had to fight the urge to at least make one jump myself. I’ve jumped out of planes enough to think this couldn’t be scarier. Just wetter. However with the words of my far more sensible wife ringing in my ears I resisted the temptation.

A truly amazing spot and one you should try and visit on a hot summer’s day.

As close to paradise as I suspect there is.

On a slightly more mundane and back to work note I am returning to South Africa for seminars in early February. Click here for details. For those of you in Malaysia and Singapore, click here.

Until next week

Iain MacLeod – Southern Man

It's a Wrap...

It’s over. It’s finally over.

The ghosts of 1991 to 2007 have finally been laid to rest. The mighty All Blacks who so dominate world rugby year in and year out have finally secured their second Rugby World Cup. The RWC monkey (gorilla?) is now firmly off their backs.

Deserved winners they were if I may say so myself. Being the objective observer I am of course.

What a struggle it has been. Late nights, excessive drinking, lots of partying, endless fun, frayed nerves, tension, loss of sleep – and that’s just the players. What about us poor suckers who had to live it with them?

Late nights, excessive drinking, partying, sleep loss, tension, chewed fingernails, teasing friends around the world (mainly South Africa for obvious reasons….) – we may as well have played the games. It has been really, really tough.

I couldn’t have gone another week. If this tournament had been eight weeks long rather than six I’d be booking a consultation with a transplant specialist about now – my liver is shot and it just couldn’t take any more.

What a great ride it has been.

Watching the final from the new stand at Eden Park on Sunday was truly special. It was not the game so many people had been expecting and having written off the French in the week leading up to the final as being unworthy a great many of us had to swallow (actually choke might have been the word of the day) humble pie as they not only proved worthy finalists they could, with an extra Powerade or two, possibly even have won.

Last week I was offered three tickets and turned them down – my ‘final’ had been the All Blacks versus the Wallabies and taking my family to what was a truly great game. Now there was an All Black team at their dominant best – they’d have crushed anyone that night.

Later in the week I was again offered a ticket and this time I thought I just had to be there. How could I not go to a World Cup final that was being played just a ten minute walk from my home? In my city and in my country? Was I crazy? Perhaps just hung over...

I totalled up what I had spent on tickets to three pool games and a semi and thought – I’ve spent enough. I could buy a car with what I have paid to watch the Samoans, Fijians, English, Scots, Wallabies, French and All Blacks! And I had been to the pool match where the ABs despatched the French with consummate ease. Why waste more money?

Simply, and after another 23 seconds consideration, I said to myself I just had to be there – even if it was going to be a one sided affair. I was being called. The atmosphere at Eden Park had been tremendous all tournament. Games watched in high spirits – colourful fans, great organisation, a world class stadium organised to run like a Swiss watch.

I was right on all fronts bar one.

I should have known that a final is different. Players grow another leg. The French grew several and what had been billed as a bit of an anti-climax turned out to be a gripping final. Some have said it wasn’t pretty – well to me it was. A true test match. Beautiful from kick off to the 80th minute. Pitting two teams of ‘die for the cause’ players against one another at one of the great rugby grounds in the world cheered on by 61,000 fans at the park, another 4 million at home and many millions more around the world was something I will never forget.

From the time the French players formed their ‘V’ for victory sign when confronted with the haka we all knew we were in for something special. And of course the French have long been the All Blacks bogey team.

Eighty minutes of grinding rugby later the stadium erupted in delight (or possibly blessed disbelief). Personally my joy lasted about two minutes – then I started to simply feel relief. Relief that the team and the country had pulled off something pretty remarkable.

The IRB had said that giving the Cup to NZ was a bit of a risk. We are too small, not enough people, stadia too small, TV time zone issues and all that but they were the first to state on Sunday evening that it was probably the best World Cup in the 24 year history of the event.

So much was done so well by so many so unobtrusively.

When international media and team management wanted things done – in tournaments past they had been told no, not possible. Here it was – hang on a minute, give me a bit of time and I will see what I can do. And do we did. With beaming smiles.

I note even our Australian cousins at the Sydney Morning Herald gave New Zealand ‘11 out of 10’ for the way the event was pulled together and run.

Clearly the reason for its success was New Zealanders embraced this tournament like none before have done.

The concept of the stadium of 4 million was deemed a bit cheesy but it was well on the mark (not sure what the other 416,000 New Zealanders were doing for six weeks).

Whole cities, towns and schools adopted different countries. Teams were based in many regions around the country and made to feel more welcome than they had expected and ended up enjoying so much more than simply the rugby. When the Georgians played the Romanians in Rotorua for example half the crowd turned up wearing yellow and half red.

When the Irish team played in Dunedin they seriously thought that 20,000 Irish supporters had flown into the country. The truth was there were only 3000 of them! The rest were locals. The same at Eden Park for their pool match against the Aussies where out of a crowd of 60,000 I would suggest 55,000 were supporting Ireland (arguably not just reflecting the fact many of us have Irish ancestry but more the friendly rivalry that exists between NZ and our neighbours across the Tasman). The rest were New Zealanders dressed in green. Every team was made to feel like they were playing at home. It was something the organisers wanted and New Zealanders, being the friendly welcoming, sport crazy nuts we are, took them all into our hearts and homes.

By all accounts the players had a great time.

As did the 100,000 or so tourists that have jumped out of planes, bungeed off bridges, visited Milford Sound, enjoyed our beautiful countryside, swum with dolphins, been fishing, enjoyed great coffee in little cafes in picturesque small towns, ate at some of the best restaurants in the world, skydived, drunk some great wines at some of the world’s best wineries, experienced street theatre, local beer and local pubs, played golf on world class golf courses and generally had the time of their lives.

So many said that they had been on many holidays before and had high expectations that were not met – this time they had equally high expectations and they were exceeded. Indeed according to many, smashed.

Little things like New Zealanders taking perfect strangers into their homes for four week so they got a real NZ experience during the World Cup and being loaned motorcars, binoculars, cameras and all sorts of things to people who were basically total strangers.

But such is the way of the people of this country. It is what makes it special.

The country used the opportunity to showcase fashion (probably a bigger exporter than you might imagine), high end manufacturing, food and our IT industries as well as our more traditional primary industries such as farming, fishing and horticulture.

Contacts were made, relationships forged, dollars flowed.

Having enjoyed this opportunity to showcase our country to the world, I think we are all now somewhat exhausted. It’s been really hard work having this much fun.

Having thought that this might be the last time that we would get to host the event the fact we pulled it off so well has already lead to talk that the tournament will return.

Roll on 2030 – I hope by then my liver has recovered.

Until next week,

Seminars – Our final round for the year are coming up in South Africa, Malaysia and Singapore. Tell your friends about 'the little country that could' and come and hear what we have to share with you about it and the new lives that await migrants to this wonderful country.

Veni, Vidi, Vici...

Sport is a funny thing, it can bring out the best and worst in us. It can be a force for good and it can also be used for negativity and destruction. So too migration.

I can see with the All Blacks now poised to take the World Cup for the first time in 24 years how dedication to a single goal; a goal that is researched, visualised, planned and then executed can be such a force for good, not only for those involved but for those around who get to bask in the reflected glory.

If you win you can look back and pin point the pivotal moments where the decisions that made the difference were locked in.

If you lose you can look around and find blame with everyone and everything else except yourself and your plan. Blame those around you because in the end you were just not up to the challenge.

I am still ashamed of the vilification of referee Wayne Barnes in this country and the way New Zealanders blamed that referee for their departure from the 2007 quarter final in Cardiff. No referee ever cost a rugby side a game in the World Cup. Not the ref in the game between Samoa and South Africa three weeks ago, not South Africa when they played Australia in the quarter final and lost and not Wales when they lost to France in the semi.

Scapegoats are for those that seek factors other than themselves. It might be natural to lash out when you fail to reach the summit of your own Everest but, not only is it unseemly, the reasons given are often so wide of the mark.

I was thinking this past week about some of the toys being thrown from cots in certain parts of the rugby world when I got to reflecting over a client of ours from South Africa who has just found himself an offer of skilled employment here that will secure his and his family’s future. As a senior Police Officer in South Africa he has seen all pathways to promotion blocked owing to that country’s employment policies which nowadays specifically excludes most ‘whites’ from advancement.

His salary is pitiful given he puts his life on the line every day he gets dressed in that uniform and his savings as a consequence not high. In fact so bad is the salary of a Police Captain, shot twice in the line of duty that he has had to set up and run his own small business on the side to supplement his income. Pest control (the irony is wonderful) has kept himself and his family from the gutter.

When I met with this potential client back in July in South Africa, I outlined a strategy to achieve Residence for his family in New Zealand. I counselled him that it would not be easy but was doable. I told him he would be tested like he has never been tested before.

He needed a job offer to make it happen. Skilled and relevant employment and it would not be an easy nut to crack.

I explained that the two weeks he had planned to set aside to come to NZ and try to secure the job was simply unrealistic, greater investment in both time and money would be needed. Two things he was very short on.

We discussed the obvious employer – New Zealand Police. New Zealand is recruiting more front line police but unfortunately I told him that he would not be able to apply to join them as they have a policy of only employing New Zealand citizens or permanent residents, but that there were other sectors which would and had recruited former policemen we had helped to get Residence Visas of New Zealand.

He was understandably very nervous about it all. I might even suggest he was petrified. He was one of the few clients that just before he flew out here I emailed and asked ‘Are you really sure you want to do this? Are you really sure you are up to it?”

He was quite determined and was willing to follow our advice and the plan we laid out for him.

He has now been in New Zealand for about ten weeks, having left his wife and daughters behind and has been busy applying for various management level positions in retail, security and other sectors.

He has applied for jobs up and down the length of this country, travelled thousands of kilometres for interviews, been rejected by almost all but stayed stoic and focussed when he did not get them.

Then it happened. Last week he secured the position he needed for us to unlock Residence Visas of New Zealand for him and his family and we have just filed his Work Visa application (from within NZ) which will enable him to start his new job in a couple of weeks.

This job will also now enable him to proceed with confidence on our plan to secure his family Residence Visas of New Zealand.

The word “hero” is to my mind over used. It is very easy to suggest everyone is a winner and there can be no losers but life isn’t like that, we all know it. There are winners and there are losers.

Lady Luck plays a bit part at times but overwhelmingly we make our own luck.

The All Blacks aren’t about to play the greatest game of their lives owing to any luck or fortune. They had to beat some very good teams to make this final. They planned for it. They trained for it. They spent four years on it. And I have no doubt they will achieve it. They have been the best team at this tournament and I am truly honoured to have sat in the stands at Eden Park last Sunday and watched them beat the Australians, clearly the second best side at this Rugby World Cup.

All migrants that take the risks involved in scaling the mountain that is migration are to my mind heroes. All are taking risks that have real and meaningful consequences on a financial, emotional and logistical level if they fail. And make no mistake - all can fail and many do. There is something Darwinian about this process – New Zealand gets highly focussed and driven people who have been prepared to sacrifice and fight for the chance to live here.

There are many for whom the climb is too steep, the battle too hard, the rejections too frequent and who when faced with the adversity, the cost, the emotional investment, the time, the rejection and the fear find they just cannot scale the heights required to secure that key to a new life for them and their family.

And to this client, this dedicated, single bloody minded client, who has been tested in this process and his life like few others and who can add a few more scars to the bullet exit wounds on his body, I salute you. You are a real hero – you had a plan, you had a vision of where you needed to go and how to get there and you did it. Your children will one day, I hope, thank you for what you have risked and what you are about to give them.

I am genuinely proud, as a coach is of his rugby team, that although we have a long way to go to finish the residence process, the single greatest impediment to securing that residence is a barrier smashed and he will make it.

To all those who seek residence for themselves and their families who want to do this on the cheap, by cutting corners, by thinking it can all be achieved without real struggle – stay where you are – you will likely fail.

To those who are willing to get good advice, and yes pay for it (for these things are not mutually exclusive), this mountain is able to be conquered.

And to our beloved mighty All Blacks who stand for all that is great and good about this little country that could – who have put their bodies on the line in the quest for greatness and glory, a noble goal will be realised on Sunday. Not through cutting corners, not through trying to win this World Cup with anything other than a good plan, sweat and tears but through a vision held steadfastly to, a plan and single minded execution, taking the knocks and setbacks and conquering all those that stood before them.

To the All Blacks - you are all real heroes.

As is every one of our clients, including our Police Captain from South Africa who take all that the Immigration Department, New Zealand employers and the visa process can find to hurl at them and who win – whose ‘World Cup’ is a somewhat innocuous looking label in a well worn passport but which ultimately says it all - I came, I saw and I conquered.

Until next week...

What the Rugby World Cup means to me...

Rugby.

It of the oddly shaped ball.

World Cup.

Starts this week if you hadn’t heard.

I wasn’t going to do the rugby thing in the blog but the anticipation, excitement and the biggest event (party!) New Zealand has ever put on, or might ever see, has overcome me. Bear with me those of you that don’t follow this mad sport. Because to understand rugby and what is about to happen, is to get an insight into New Zealanders but equally, how New Zealand is changing.

I put myself in the highly interested but not obsessed camp. If we win it, great. If we don’t, then someone else played a better game in a knockout situation than we did. We move on. But in the meantime we have fun, party and show off this magical country of ours to the 85,000 visitors and the millions more who will watch on television from around the world.

Understand rugby in New Zealand and you will understand how it is a metaphor for a changing nation. In some ways, it represents what the ‘old’ New Zealand used to be about. Values that we all once shared and now many have left behind; what some pine for and what many are glad we have left in that other, antique New Zealand. Of some clinging to this sport as a measure of our national manhood and others who do not measure their worth, or the worth of this nation, against what happens on a footy field.

I live in a suburb called Mount Eden. It is a ten minute walk to the hallowed ground of Eden Park which, for the next seven weeks, will have the eyes of the rugby world focussed on it. Yet equally, there are literally thousands of people sharing Mount Eden with me who not only don’t watch rugby, they don’t give a toss about the world cup. Many are migrants from Asia and India. Give them football. Give them cricket. Give them Badminton. Give them Ping Pong. Rugby on the whole is for Pakeha (NZ European), Polynesian and Maori and the 100,000 South Africans that have made New Zealand their home.

Don’t get me wrong, I have bought tickets for the New Zealand versus France game later on this month at Eden Park. ‘Le Revenge’ for Cardiff 2007 many are calling it. I wouldn’t miss it.

So which teams have New Zealanders worried?

The young Australian team with possibly the best back line in the world. The South Africans who will bore us to death with their ‘style’ and to whom winning is more important than it is to New Zealanders.

That’s right South Africans. Every time I am in South Africa I hear that apparently rugby is a religion in NZ. It really makes me laugh. How little the Super Sport talking TV heads understand us. If rugby is a religion then I am afraid many of us are lapsed. The truth is, as I have said before, after many experiences watching the game in South Africa I have not come across more rabid rugby supporters.

I mean there’s been no playing dress up on a Friday like your favourite All Black in New Zealand. No endless TV commercials exhorting the so called team of millions. We know we are already part of Team New Zealand putting our best foot forward – the Silver Fern and more importantly the haka, are the unifying forces. Nothing staged about it. No trying to pretend we are all one people. We are all one people.

On my last trip to SA a month or so ago I almost thought that the tournament must be being held there and not NZ if the TV propaganda, er, marketing, was to be believed exhorting the nation to be one (as South Africa constantly does).

Hell, we have all been moaning about the price of the damn shirts! Personally wearing the shirt of the national team is the ultimate confirmation we are no longer seen as fans by the IRB but consumers. I confess I did buy one but not for me and not to wear. I have bought one for a good friend in South Africa, to add to his collection in his wonderful bar (pub) in his home in Durban. I wouldn’t waste my money on an All Black jersey.

So what does this World Cup mean to me?

Sharing good times with good friends. Welcoming people to our country to share a laugh and a unique ‘Made in New Zealand’ experience. A chance to showcase the best of our industries, our foods, our wine and our lifestyle. And of course a business opportunity. I have many potential clients coming over for a few weeks. I have no doubt they will be blown away by what they see and experience. And the best part for them will be the people. And many will decide to come back and live.

I have my tickets for the semi final which if results go the way of seedings should see the All Blacks playing the Springboks at Eden Park. I spent $1500 (ouch!) on three tickets for me and my sons. I figured this might be the only time we will get a chance to see a major game like this on our home patch and in the end, while I think the prices are hideously expensive it is a once in a lifetime opportunity – so what the hell!

And I confess, with the All Blacks losing their last two games to the Springboks and Australia, I just had to be part of it. To see if this time they could do it. To see if this time they could adapt and play a winning game all the way through to the end. Win ugly if they have to. As the Springboks and English have learned.

I think most New Zealanders, who always like a good time, would see winning as the icing on a seven week party cake. If we lose, we lose, the sun will still rise and shine upon us. I don’t think we define ourselves by what happens on a rugby paddock. I certainly don’t.

We are being told by the organisers to make sure we offer the 85,000 visitors the time of their lives and not to worry about whether the All Blacks win or lose. Ah, yeah, okay…roger that, sure.

I have no doubt we will. Show them a great time that is.

Already the supporters are pouring in. No rooms at the inn and all that. I am amazed that most have booked six week stays and it is clear this isn’t going to be just an Auckland and Wellington rugby event but our visitors are going to suck in all that it means to be a New Zealander. Everything this wonderful country has to offer them – local food and wine, farmers markets, vineyards, farm stays, urban stays, big game fishing, little game fishing(!), Auckland’s new Art Gallery, stage shows, the new ‘Q’ theatre in Auckland, local music, museums, Lord of the Rings Country, Weta Workshop, America’s Cup yachts (get out on our harbour if you are coming), skiing (bumper snow levels on Ruapehu in the Central North Island) , surfing (yep, ski in the morning and surf in the afternoon), walking on beaches, whale watching, swimming with dolphins, sailing, hiking, mountain biking – makes me tired just thinking about it.

Spring is here and the weather should be perfect for rugby – temperatures in the high teens most days in most places, not too hot and not cold. This winter has been very mild apart from two cold snaps. The garden is looking pretty dry and the potted plants need constant watering. The rugby fields will be in excellent condition.

Any thoughts that this will be a wet and challenging environment for rugby favouring the European teams is rubbish. I wouldn’t expect a lot of rain.

And it all kicks off if you’ll excuse the pun this Friday.

Organisers are expecting 50,000 people at Eden Park for the official opening ceremony and another 60,000 along Downtown Auckland.

If you can, watch, watch – the opening ceremony begins at 6pm local time (6am GMT, 8am South Africa and 2pm Singapore and Malaysia). The largest firework display New Zealand has ever seen follows the Eden Park Events.

If you are coming over or are already in New Zealand here is a few must dos while you are here in Auckland:

Have brunch/lunch/dinner (hell just stay for the whole day) at the new Wynyard Quarter

Stroll the farmers market at Britomart then retire to one of the many new bars for local beer or wine. And try out local beers – you could drink a new local beer every time for seven weeks and you’d never drink the same variety twice!

Head up the Sky Tower – you will probably see home from the top.

Visit Federal Street (under the Sky Tower) for some of the best Tapa’s Bars you’ll find (and the latest hang out for Auckland’s beautiful people)

La Cigale Farmers market in Parnell – great food, coffee and the best locally grown produce you will find (ask for directions, it isn’t easy to find but well worth it)

Settle in and watch the rugby at ‘The Cloud’, a 130 metre long structure that looks like a rolling, well, cloud (or albino caterpillar). This is ‘Party Central’ for the RWC. Two football fields long with two giant 18m TV screens, it is to be the hub for World Cup revellers. Bars, stages and food – it is going to be the place to be. Set up to cater for 15,000 people at a time.

Merediths (in Mount Eden – again voted NZ’s best and just a stones throw from Eden Park) for the best fine dining experience you will find while you are here (if you can get a table – they are often booked months in advance). Equally The French Café, The Engine Room, Dine, Clooneys (the list really is endless).

Enjoy some of the cheap Chinese eateries along Dominion Road (15 minutes walk from Eden Park). You won’t understand the waiters, you aren’t there for the service but the food is cheap, regional Chinese and to die for.

Ponsonby Road for more food and bars

Fishing charters out on the Hauraki Gulf – you read me talk about it, now do it for yourselves

Newmarket for shopping

A day (or two) on Waiheke Island – our gem of the Hauraki Gulf – vineyards, great restaurants or you might even take your boardies and have a swim.

If you are staying centrally in Auckland the bus service is superb. The trains are safe and clean and if you are not staying too far away from a station offer a comfortable alternative to the car.

And if you can, squeeze in a bit of rugby!

And therein lies the rub. Once the rugby club was the centre of our social lives. These days, especially for those of us that live in cities like Auckland, it is a small part of it with our diverse backgrounds, histories and interests, the RWC is just a good excuse to have more fun.

Let the party begin!

Iain MacLeod - Southern Man