What is your traditional food in New Zealand?  That’s a question that I got asked a few times while I was in France and it got me thinking about my country’s culture and traditions.  I found it hard to answer the food question.  A roast lamb with kumara maybe?  Pavlova at Christmas time?  These are things that many Kiwi families would eat but New Zealand is such a multicultural country (and lamb is so expensive) that the dishes I frequently cook are more Italian and Thai inspired, which sounds a bit fancier than saying I cook a lot of pasta and rice.

And culture?  Hmm, that’s also hard to define.  My family tree traces back predominantly through Europe.  I don’t have any Maori blood.  But New Zealand is where I, my parents and three of my grandparents were born.  I know no other home.  As a Kiwi girl, I have been brought up amongst a rich fusion of English, Maori and Polynesian influences but also surrounded by people of many other races.  I live with lots of sunshine and rain, suburbia, beautiful beaches, rugged West Coast landscape, hakas before rugby games, BBQs, tomato sauce and hokey pokey ice cream.

While there are people from many cultural backgrounds in the United Kingdom, it is somehow still wonderfully British!  The old buildings, the red double-decker buses and black taxi cabs; Oxford Street, Bond Street and Regent Street; Piccadilly Circus, Covent Gardens and Notting Hill; Marks and Spencer, Tesco and the local co-op – it has felt like being on the set of a British Netflix series.  Every now and then I’ve had to pinch myself to make sure it’s happening in real life.

One of the biggest pinch-me moments in this chapter of my trip would have to be what happened on London Day Four.   I hadn’t caught on that there was going to be a London Day Four, although apparently, I had been told.  And this has been a reoccurring theme during my time in the UK – being told things and not remembering.  It’s as though my brain is like a completely soaked sponge that can’t absorb any more water.  I get told new information, and it just falls out of my head straight away.  Weird.  I think I have brain fatigue.

Anyway…. I knew the plan had been to meet up somewhere with my tour guide’s cousin and wee daughter, and that together we would be going to visit the Tower of London.  (I guess the London bit following the “Tower of” should have been an indication that we would again be in central London.  Ah well.)  When we discovered there was to be a delay with our first train, my guide announced dramatically that we would have to forego the Tower visit.  I did think it was a slight over-reaction.  Would thirty minutes or so really make that much of a difference to our day?  Surely the Tower wasn’t going anywhere.  But I followed along, confident that she knew best.  What I didn’t realise at the time was just how carefully the day had been planned out.  Timing would be crucial.

The Tower of London now struck off the list, my tour guide decided we would simply meet up at a park where the three-year-old member of our group could play, while the grown-ups chatted and perhaps grabbed a coffee.  A phone call was made, and the plan was now officially altered and agreed to.

We arrived at the park and located said cousin and three-year-old.  Whilst exchanging introductions and hugs my tour guide casually pointed behind her and said “Oh, that’s Buckingham Palace” in the same tone as you might say “I think I’ll make a cuppa”, just because you were bored and it would be something to do.

“Really?” I spluttered, trying to quickly pull out my phone and grab a few pictures.  But the others were already heading down towards the play area.  I marveled at how they were so used to all this historic grandeur that it no longer seemed all that special to them.

Now, I had also been told that we would be meeting another friend for lunch later.  So when my tour guide ordered a substantial sandwich with her coffee from the park kiosk, I was a bit surprised.

“We won’t be eating for a while”, she explained as she saw me eyeing up the small chocolate brownie in the cabinet. 

“Strange,” I thought to myself.  “But not wanting to be seen as unhealthy, I too ordered the more virtuous sandwich.”

Play date over and farewells said, we met up with the next friend and headed off towards what I supposed was the direction of lunch.  My guide and her lovely English friend were walking at quite a speed, but people do that in London.  Places to go, things to do….

We trotted along past the palace, me trying to keep up with the other two while at the same time attempting to grab a few photos over the heads of the people who were lining up to go in.

My tour guide called back over her shoulder that her friend “knew a better way”, but what I heard was “knew a better gate” – which I then took to mean she knew a better gate from which to take some photos of the palace. 

“Oh good” I thought, pleased that I might actually have a chance at a decent photo or two after all.

Suddenly, the friend turned hard right and disappeared into a tented entry of sorts, right in front of the waiting line of people.  My tour guide disappeared behind her and so I followed too, pleased that I hadn’t lost them both in the crowd and thinking we would come across a gate with a good view of the palace.  Instead, we were inside a tent and in front of a desk.

“What’s happening?” I asked, puffed and perplexed.

“Where going into the Palace”, my tour guide replied with a big grin.

“What do you mean?  How?  When?”  I was so confused.

“Now”, she responded excitedly and explained that her friend had been able to get free entry tickets through her work and they had both secretly planned it all a few days before as a surprise.

I could hardly believe it and was still pinching myself as we began our tour.  Photos were not permitted inside the palace, so we simply had to be in the moment and soak it all in.  And, my goodness, there was certainly a lot to soak in.  So much beauty – the art, the furniture and the chandeliers.  It was so interesting to learn about the history of the palace and those who had lived there, including Queen Victoria.  The best thing about it for me though, was the thought that we were walking on the floors that Queen Elizabeth II had walked and were standing in the rooms where she had met heads of state and granted knighthoods. 

The tour ended and we exited into a café area, which looked out over a lawn where royal garden parties are held.  Although the tea and cakes were a bit pricey, we decided they were a must.  So now the three of us can say, “We’ve had tea at Buckingham Palace”.  Giggle.

It did all seem so grand, as do a lot of things I’ve seen in London so far.

On another day we visited Windsor Castle, just the outside this time. A girl can only handle so many surprises.

While eating our Marks and Spencer meal-deal lunch on a bench in front of the castle, a young man walked past dressed in a very conservative suit and wearing a bowler hat.  I laughed and asked my guide why he was wearing such a ridiculous-looking hat.  It seemed so old-fashioned to me.

“He’s probably a dignitary of some sort”, she replied.

On the way to the castle, we’d passed some young men from nearby Eton College.  Dressed in black trousers with white pinstripes, stiff white shirts and ties, black waistcoats and long black tailcoats, they looked like they’d been filming a Harry Potter scene.  Again I’d laughed.

But later that evening, I’d chatted with Clive about my remarkable day and also about the outfits I’d seen, which I described to him as looking pretentious and completely out-of-date.

He was quick to point out that I had recently complained to him about the lack of traditions in New Zealand.

“The things you saw today – the bowler hat, the black waistcoats and tails – they’re not an attempt to be cool or modern.  They are all part of English traditions”, he reminded me.

Yep, I get it.  All these wonderful things, and the pomp and ceremony of it all – it’s just the British being British.  And they do it so well.

London Day Four was a wonderful surprise.  I am so thankful to New Zealand’s Best British Tour Guide and to her lovely friend for such a royal treat!

Tally-ho!