It's just a thought...
Attend a seminar as a starting point to learn more about the lifestyle of each country, their general migration process and a broad overview of Visa categories.
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 Australia & New Zealand at a grass-roots level is paramount to your immigration survival, and to give you a realistic view of both countries, its people and how we see the world, as well as updates about any current or imminent policy changes, subscribe to our regular blog posts by clicking here.
Posted by Iain on June 23, 2017, 6:41 p.m. in New Zealand
A few months’ ago the then-Prime Minister announced an aspirational goal to create a predator-free New Zealand by 2050.
You may not be aware but New Zealand has a very unique fauna and flora profile. The country split off from the rest of what was then Gondwana some 60 million years ago before the rise of mammals. New Zealand has historically only had two species of land mammal; the short-tailed and long-tailed bat (both of which are now critically endangered). While we did have mammals around the coastline, such as fur seals, those two species of bat were it for the mainland and islands around the country.
When humans first arrived in New Zealand around 800 years’ ago they brought with them their favourite foodstuffs and a couple of unwitting passengers including pmice and rats. When Europeans arrived, they brought with them and released into the wild many species of deer, moose (now supposedly extinct), goats, Tahr, and, in order to create a fur industry, the Australian brush-tailed possum and rabbits.
These last two species have become pests of the greatest magnitude and the deer do untold damage. Despite there being calls in the 1850s and 1860s not to further introduce other mammals into the country to control the exploding rabbit population, in their wisdom my forefathers introduced weasels, stoats and ferrets as these were natural predators for rabbits in the United Kingdom. Mustelids are very intelligent little killers and they very quickly realised that it was easier to catch a flightless Kiwi and other flightless birds than it was to catch a rabbit and so they did.
Within decades most of our mainland forests were falling increasingly silent as these birds have no defence strategies against these rapacious killers.
While the mustelids did their work on the ground, the brush-tailed possum destroyed a lot of the vegetation and a lot of the birds’ nests, chicks and eggs.
While we still have extensive stands of native forest across the country that tourists and locals alike enjoy, it always saddens me whenever I go into these forests that where there isn’t intense predator control programmes you’ll be very lucky to hear any birdlife whatsoever. I’m filled with a deep sadness about what we’ve done to our forests.
Over the past twenty years many of our offshore islands (of which we have hundreds) have been effectively sealed off from human contact and rats, mice, feral cats, possums and mustelids have been removed and the islands have become sanctuaries. Unfortunately, most New Zealanders don’t have boats and even if they did, you can’t step foot on these islands to enjoy the forests as they once were. I have written in other blogs about how you can get very close on boats and the birdsong is intense but the plan is to even the ‘balance’ on the mainland.
Although the Government hasn’t thrown a lot of money at this “predator-free 2050 NZ” programme, it has ignited in many of us a desire to do something to contribute.
I regularly volunteer at a private forest block that now has 43 Kiwi and assist with baiting and clearing traps.
Next month, my family and some close friends will take title over 50 acres (22 hectares) of regenerating Northland Kauri forest not from our beach house and it is our aim and plan to make it predator-free. All throughout Northland and especially on the East Coast, community, farm and forest groups are getting together to create these predator-free mainland ‘islands’ which unfortunately can only happen through intense trapping, particularly of these mustelids and the brush-tailed possum.
What is amazing is just how much support there is from local Councils in terms of providing the trapping hardware and do so at cost price but equally they provide the know-how in terms of educating we city slickers on how to bait and set traps and the best places to get the best results. Although like most young New Zealanders, I did have family who owned farms and spent many wonderful school holidays out hunting rabbits and possums, most urban New Zealanders now never spend time in forests let alone consider the destruction our introduced species have wrought upon them.
I’m really excited about the prospect of doing my bit and when my time is up, passing this land along to future generations to preserve as it once was.
We have no plans to develop it, no plans to put in services such as electricity or water, nor to build houses. There are a couple of fairly primitive sleep outs on the property and a covered cooking area but that’s as “civilised” as it’s going to get. Talking to other people who have done something similar, they all explain that once you get on top of the rat, mustelid and possum populations, which takes two or three years, the trees quickly recover and the birdlife returns.
I’ll keep you posted over the next few years how it goes!
Until next week...
Posted by Iain on June 8, 2017, 6:07 p.m. in New Zealand
I have waited all my life to get to Milford Sound. Lying in the southwest of the South Island, it is most certainly off the beaten track but every year several thousand extremely fortunate people make the effort to get there and experience it.
Everyone who has been there speaks with a hushed reverence about the place. Down the years I’ve seen plenty of photos of the iconic Mitre Peak and heard tales of a landscape made by giants - deep u-shaped valleys carved out of the hardest rock in New Zealand by rivers of frozen ice, of fjords 400m deep, towering, jagged mountain peaks covered in snow, dense temperate rain forest from the snow line all the way down to the sea. And rain, relentless and in great volumes, making it the second wettest place on Earth.
Nothing, and I mean nothing, prepared me for what I saw when I went there earlier this week.
No photo can ever do the sheer scale of the landscape justice and I’m not sure I am a talented enough wordsmith to be able to describe what we saw in a way that can do it justice either (but check out some of my photos on Instagram...I tried...).
Our day started at 5.45am and we awoke to another still, dark and freezing Queenstown morning with more stars in the sky than I have almost ever seen. The barometer registered -3°C and it would be some two hours later before the sun finally succeeded in climbing above the high mountains made silhouette by a slow emerging dawn. Rather than drive ourselves we decided to take a bus tour and joined approximately 12 international tourists on a luxurious coach which was mercifully warm and provided the smoothest of rides up the shores of Lake Wakatipu, past Kingston and into the western heart of Southland. Two hours in and there lay my first surprise. I had assumed that the trip out toward the coast would be mountainous and forested but instead we initially travelled through wide flat river terraces covered in open fields of tussock-coloured grass. Merino sheep filled some of the vast fields but it seems that farming deer is as big as farming sheep in these parts. There were thousands of them.
For two hours we travelled across these wide river valleys until we reached Lake Te Anau. This is New Zealand’s second-largest lake and is surrounded by Beech Forests. Apparently it has water so fresh that it is 99% pure and therefore more pure than anything you could ever buy in a plastic bottle at the supermarket. We drove parallel to its shores for 60-odd kilometres up the eastern shoreline through a light fog, past occasional farm cottages trailing limp wisps of smoke from rock chimneys.
Emerging on the northern side we started the climb, we left lake and gloom behind and into a big southern clear blue sky day they have so many of down this way and on into the Fiordland National Park.
This is where things started to get more stunning than words can describe. If you can have sensory overload this is where you’ll experience it.
Mountain peaks line both sides of these forested, glacial-formed valleys with almost sheer sides rising between 1,500 and 2,000 metres - virtually straight up. Those of you familiar with the work of glaciers will know that the valleys are not v-shaped as you tend to get when they’re formed by rivers, but u-shaped. At this time of the year (early winter) the sun doesn’t get high enough to warm many of the valley floors. As a consequence, the valleys were covered in a deep white frost, something those of us that live in the north of New Zealand never experience. As the days grow shorter and the nights colder, this frost never sees the sun and so frost in many parts builds upon frost. Pulling over to the side of the road in one of these valleys we got out to experience a seeming endless view of grasses and scraggy shrubs covered in minute ice crystals. Even some of the trees were dusted and sparkling as if someone had cast them in millions of tiny diamonds. It was magical - utterly breathtaking (and breath takingly cold too).
As we approached the Homer Tunnel the road became more narrow and began to wind closer to the edge of the deep valley. Mountains through this part of the park are 3,000 - 3500 metres high and toward their tops, covered in the purest white snow. The valley sides hold little soil so smooth are their sides caused by the grinding of ice during the last ice age. So many of these mountains appeared as if they had been sliced right through with a giant carving knife, leaving a relatively smooth side of almost vertical rock of over 1500 metres in height. Many were steeped in mosses, ferns and toward the valley bottoms, beech forest clinging by their roots to fissures and cracks. Running through these valley floors were rivers of the clearest water you might imagine, over rocks smoothed by thousands of years of tumbling and grinding over and by one another.
From time to time our rare mountain parrot known as the Kea would fly down and could be seen on the side of the road.
Then through the Homer Tunnel, often closed in winter following heavy snow, this marvel of engineering is very steep, took a whole lot of dynamite and was blasted and cut straight through the mountain. We emerged, over 1.5 kilometres later at the head of Milford Sound, a half bowl of ancient rock worn smooth by ice and towering 2000 metres above (and around) us.
After descending the most stunning of drives through verdant rainforest we arrived 15 minutes or so later at the ferry terminal, lined with large cruising boats all ready to take their loads of tourists up the ’Sound’. Having boarded our 30-metre launch with only a few passengers to keep us company, the boat slipped quietly out from it's mooring and glided slowly across a glass-like Milford Sound toward Mitre Peak which lay several kilometres away.
As we got closer the mountain appeared to grow. Taller and taller, higher and higher. Onboard, necks strained to try and see the top above almost sheer cliffs. Mountain top tickling blue sky literally kilometres up. Without actually shrinking I don’t know how it might be possible to feel any smaller and insignificant. Mitre Peak rose almost straight up 1,650m from the waterline and the fjord below it plunged a further 275m to the bottom of this drowned glacial valley. For those of you familiar with that other spectacular piece of rock, Table Mountain in Cape Town, Mitre Peak is almost twice as high and is surrounded by peaks even higher. All are steep sided with almost vertical cliff faces of some of the oldest and smoothest rocks in New Zealand. Down one face a 1500m gash ran, caused by an earthquake around 18,000 years ago. We were passing right over the main alpine fault that separates the East Australian and Indo/Pacific tectonic plates. This area is closely monitored by scientists and they detect up to 1000 tectonic movements each and every day (of which 99% plus are never felt by anyone, thankfully). This part of the country is being forced relentlessly up to form some of the highest and youngest mountain peaks on the planet.
The word that kept springing to mind was “scale”. And 'epic'.
This is a landscape on steroids. Unimaginable scale. Until you have been in the heart of Fiordland with its massive u-shaped valleys towering thousands of metres above (and below) you, witnessing hanging valleys, themselves formed by rivers of ice sitting 1500 metres up the sides of the main fjords with 200m high waterfalls cascading over their edges, it’s hard to comprehend just how small it makes you feel. I kept thinking that not too long ago the ice here was over 1000m thick.
It was really brought home to me when I took a photo of a three-masted, four-decked tourist ship that sailed below Mitre Peak. It had been tied up beside us at the wharf at Milford Sound and it was massive. By the time it got out into the fjord and we saw it from the other side of the valley, it appeared to have shrunk until in the end it looked like a toy boat beside the sheer almost vertical wall of rock.
In this part of New Zealand there are 237 days upon which there is measurable rain and they don’t measure the rainfall in millimetres - they measure it in metres and there is 8 of them (that's 8000mm!).
Having made our way up the fjord toward its mouth and opening to the Tasman Sea cameras clicked incessantly and it occurred to me - not quite a waste of time, but no one will understand the scale and majesty who hasn’t experienced it. Photos simply cannot do this place justice.
Thankfully the 'roaring forties' were being very kind to us and there was barely any swell as we poked our nose out into the Southern Ocean before turning around for the return journey.
I know I have not done the majesty and scale of this place the justice it deserves but add this place to your bucket list. Whatever you do, add it.
This is one of those places you simply have to see before you breathe your last. I am told it is even more spectacular when it has received some of that legendary rain but just how much better it might beI cannot comprehend.
It is a very long day on the bus, some 12 hours in terms of the round journey but you do it in comfort, you do it in style, it is affordable and is something which at any price you simply cannot miss.
Until next week.
Posted by Iain on June 1, 2017, 4:33 p.m. in New Zealand
Do you remember the last time that you could only hear two or three sounds in any part of your day?
Right now I am staying at Furneaux Lodge, an old Victorian homestead deep in Queen Charlotte Sound, one of numerous drowned river valleys lying at the top of the South Island. I am on my way to Queenstown for a couple of business meetings but decided to stop off here for some long forest hikes (two under the belt – close to 30km in two days) and a bit of a break after three busy weeks in South Africa.
This morning when I woke up and stepped outside into what could best be described as ‘fresh’ winter weather, I could hear two things. One was the call of the bellbird, this small olive green bird possesses an extremely loud and melodic call (click to listen) that seems so incongruous coming from such a small creature. The other sound was that of the stream outside our cabin; crystal clear water tumbling over rock worn smooth from millennia of grinding rock on rock. Gurgling and hissing its way to the calm salt waters of a glass smooth Endeavour Inlet.
And that was it.
No wind. No people. No machines. Virtually no noise. Absolute peace.
The ‘Sounds’ are extremely steep valleys and covered in ancient and dense forests. Dull grey skies this morning carried with it a gentle mist that would catch on the tree tops before continuing, swirling on its way.
Yesterday we walked through towering beech forests, with trunks black like soot but caused not by pollution, but by a nectar producing fungus. Jet black trunks rising 40 metres into the air. We crossed paths with plenty of Weka, a native flightless rail. Wherever there was a picnic table or rest spot there always seemed to be at least one curious resident Weka that would sneak out of the undergrowth to see what scraps of food we might have to share.
We walked over numerous streams with the clearest water you’ll ever see. The smooth rocks a tapestry of browns, beiges and greys.
Water dripping through mats of bright green moss.
The hills around here are not all that high - perhaps 300-500m - but the forest seems to generate enormous amounts of fresh water. I suspect mostly ground water finding its way to the surface through weaknesses in the rocks. It appears many had been ‘switched off’ after the recent huge earthquake in Kaikoura in late 2016 which shifted much of the underlying bedrock. While in that part of the coastline the seabed rose over 5m in places, where we are it apparently sank about 3cm. Doesn’t sound much but it was enough to block many of the fissures in the rock which fed springs in the high hills.
Looking around this part of New Zealand it is today almost exactly the same as it was when humans first arrived in this country several hundred years ago. Forest as far as the eye can see from the tops of the hills all the way down to the waters’ edge.
I cannot recommend this part of the country highly enough. I always think of those concrete and glass highrise trapped Singaporean and Hong Kong clients when I am out in these parts of this incredible country of ours. The freedom. The fresh air. The trees. The silence. No people! So different to what any of us that live in big cities are used to.
The tracks from lodge to lodge are wide and smooth enough for mountain bikes or easy hiking (luckily we are here at the end of the ‘season’ and in two days only saw two other couples having trekked almost 30km). They are fairly easy walking, even if you had youngsters with you.
Water taxis and ferries can drop off your luggage to wherever you are headed next so all you need is some sturdy boots (although my wife insists on trainers only) and a day pack. You don’t even need to take water with you – nature provides you with the freshest water imaginable.
A wonderful and safe introduction to another magical part of this incredible country.
Add it to your amazing ‘to do’ list.
Until next week...
Iain MacLeod - Southern Man
Posted by Iain on May 25, 2017, 6:10 p.m. in New Zealand
In breaking news, the national sheep flock has fallen from a high of 79 million four decades ago to a paltry 29 million today. And few in NZ care...
In other breaking news, New Zealand company RocketLab has this week become the first private company in the history of an emerging commercial space industry to successfully launch a rocket into space from its North Island launch pad.
How are these two events related?
Both demonstrate the profound changes in the NZ economy over the past 30 years.
I am tingling with pride and what this showcases in terms of this little country of ours.
This new industry has, it is said, the capacity to be a multi-billion dollar addition to the already diverse New Zealand economy. Bigger than Kiwifruit, some are suggesting!
The successful launch builds upon an illustrious, but until recently, little celebrated locally and virtually unknown internationally NZ history of some amazing technological and engineering ‘firsts’.
Many believe it is only lack of proof that saw the Wright Brothers take the crown for being the first to master powered flight from our own Richard Pearse’s efforts back in 1904 when he is said to have pipped the Wright brothers at the post by a few months. Alas, no evidence to back the (apparently solid) claim.
In a sign of just how New Zealand has changed in recent times, no one gives two hoots about the falling national sheep flock, New Zealand innovation is allowing us to head for the stars (well satellites into low earth orbit and a moon rover delivery has also been booked...).
Those that have been to my seminars know how excited I am about this company – more for what is says about New Zealand and New Zealanders than anything else.
Building rockets and satellite launching is for me just the latest example of a highly diversified economy that extends far beyond the farm gate.
The shortish story of RocketLab’s founder, Peter Beck, is pretty interesting and inspirational. Just over a decade ago this guy from Invercargill (a small nowhere place at the bottom of the South Island) was studying engineering. He and a few mates talked about building a rocket and putting it in space. After what I suspect was a few more beers they got serious about it.
Having no money they had much to overcome. They were forced to innovate. In essence they couldn’t afford a ‘traditional’ rocket engine so they redesigned one that allowed them to prepare for much cheaper launches.
Yesterday was the culmination of over ten years of hard work, out of the box thinking as the 17m high rocket, appropriately painted black with a Silver Fern on its nose, reached speeds of 27,000kph and successfully obtained earth orbit.
RocketLab plans to launch washing machine sized satellites into low earth orbit for a touch under $5 million which is a steal as anyone you know that launches satellites into space for a living will tell you. Even my hero Elon Musk can’t do it so cheap. NASA has looked on in amazement. Their similar sized satellites are degrees of magnitude more expensive to launch.
The RocketLab team amazes scientists and engineers with their technology. They intrigued the boffins at Lockheed Martin. They dazzled the VC guys who dug deep into their pockets to fund this exciting bunch of crazies from NZ.
This was engineering innovation at its finest.
Lockheed Martin has bought in. The company is now headquartered in the US but the R&D and commercialisation is very much here in New Zealand.
A quite amazing story. We have come a very long way since we relied on what came off the sheep’s back.
In a Post Script to last week’s blog and as I gird my loins for another trip to file another (possibly unnecessary but I cannot get a straight answer out of anyone) visitor visa for my next trip to South Africa, I needed to apply for a new NZ passport to make it all happen. At 7.10am on Wednesday this week I filed an online application for a new (urgent but not emergency) passport.
At precisely 9am I received an email advising me that the passport was being put in a courier bag for overnight delivery. The passport arrived in one piece yesterday morning. The South African High Commission will now, I suspect, take three weeks or more to process and put a (low risk) visitor visa into it.
So we aren’t just good at building space vehicles.
Until next week...
Posted by danni on Dec. 16, 2016, 12:58 p.m. in New Zealand
As 2016 draws to a close, New Zealand’s summer buzz begins to permeate our little country; families at the beach, the smell of sunblock and BBQs, sticky, glowing seawater skin, Mojitos, ice lollies, watermelons and cherries all making summer impossible to miss.
It’s a great refresher to what was an unpredictable 2016.
Auckland’s CBD is also full of seasonal cheer; the traditional, giant Father Christmas outside Queen Street’s Farmers building looking over all tourists, locals and those of us still at work wandering the city getting sushi. Houses across the the country have layered their homes in Christmas lights almost in competition with one another and touring the most decorated streets is a must do. Staff at the local dairy (for our readers not from New Zealand, that’s not a shop that sells dairy products but a convenience store) are wearing Santa hats and have cash registers wrapped in tinsel.
At IMMagine we’ve been quietly focusing on a few exciting changes. In the new year, we’re going to be combining many of our seminars. Since our licensed & experienced advisers are able to conduct eligibility assessments against policy of both Australia and New Zealand, it made sense to create a dual presentation that covered both countries. We’ve done this because we know that often the destination is less important than the freedom and ability to leave and if there is an easier route to the other country, we’ll let you know.
Our first South African seminar for the year scheduled for the 30th of January will be dual focused on Australia and New Zealand.
Our offices will be closing at midday on the 22nd of December, and although Iain, Myer and some skeleton staff will be available for emergencies, we will enjoy the festive break with all of you, clearing our inboxes only as necessary. If you’ve got any queries that you’d like answered before then, please don’t hesitate to contact us.
IMMagine NZ & AU will be reopening on the 4th of January, ready for what we hope is a slightly less eventful and more peaceful 2017 for the world.
Here’s to all of our clients who’ve gone through big moves this year, started new jobs and spent time getting to know a new country!
And to all of our readers as well, we wish you a very Merry Christmas and a prosperous, peaceful 2017.
- IMMagine Marketing
Attend a seminar as a starting point to learn more about the lifestyle of each country, their general migration process and a broad overview of Visa categories.
Have a preliminary evaluation to establish which Visa category may suit you and whether it’s worth your while ordering a comprehensive Full Assessment.
Let us develop your detailed strategy, timeline and pricing structure in-person or on Skype. Naturally, a small cost applies for this full and comprehensive assessment.