---

---

For an ex-pat Kiwi living overseas in the UK there are certain rites of passage that just simply have to be done, with the Waitangi Day Pub Crawl being one of these legendary events. For those non-Kiwis who are somewhat mystified as they read this, Waitangi Day is the national day of New Zealand that is celebrated every year on 6 February. However for reasons too pathetic to mention, back home Waitangi Day is traditionally seen more as a day off work rather than a day for celebrating all things NZ, unlike for instance the dinki di, rough as guts, green and gold patriotic orgy that the Aussies muster for Australia Day.

However when you are half a planet from home you can't afford to get complacent about things as inherently important as the national day, so on the Saturday closest to Feb 6th the Waitangi Day Pub Crawl is held in London. To give you some idea of scale, apparently 50,000 New Zealanders live here in London, which is roughly 1 in 80 Kiwis when you think about it. Of that number, anywhere between 8,000-10,000 take part in the pub crawl, which according to the fella who was dressed like Mr Pepelo from Bro-Town, makes it the largest pub crawl in Europe.

The pub crawl itself follows the route of the Circle Line underground, starting at 10am at Paddington Station and following the Circle Line anticlockwise until it ends at Westminster for a massed haka. At each tube stop there is a designated pub and that gets packed to the rafters by thirsty Kiwis faster than you can say cook me some eggs bro. Inevitably this means that most of the pub crawlers spill out on to the street, but thats part of the charm of the day (unless you happen to be a passing motorist). As with any concerted drinking expedition there are certain rules that must be observed, and these are mainly confined to drunken tube ettiquette. First and foremost only the Circle Line may be used to travel between pubs, so anyone who hops on the District Line (which goes in the same direction) gets booed and rightly so. Holding on while the tube is moving is a sin, which makes for some good mauls when the brakes go on and everyone is thrown forward. And of course any members of the public who unwittingly happen to be sharing the tube are to be respected and looked after with proper courtesy. After all manners cost nothing and we wouldn't want to be confused for rude Australians would we? It must be quite traumatic to be surrounded by 80 drunken Kiwis packed into the tube like cattle and bellowing NZ songs!

As first time WDPC attendees we kicked the day off at 9am at the Fulham Slug to watch the Hurricanes play the Reds. Spam had earlier won a Speights beer giveaway, so after a pretty uninspiring first half from the Canes we decided to cut our losses and stop by his house for some Gold Medal Ale, before making our way up the line to the pub crawl. Having missed the start at Paddington, we decided to hit High Street Kensington first, where a healthy crowd of Kiwis had taken over the Prince of Wales pub. While there we caught up with a few of the lycra-clad lads from uni days and who were in the NZ Winter Olympic team. They held a few events outside on the road, much to the crowds laughter.

We made a tactical decision to bypass the next stop at Gloucester Rd in favour of South Kensington and the Zetland Arms pub. The tube journey was full of good humour and song, with the perennial primary school favourite "Tutira mai nga iwi" getting a full rendition by the packed tube cars. We were joined at the Zetland Arms by a sizeable contingent of London bobbies, who were really only there to keep us from blocking the streets as everyone was largely in good spirits and not causing too much trouble.

Word quickly got around that the Circle Line was being shut down as it simply couldn't cope with the numbers that were using it, so we downed our beers and legged it back to the station to catch the tube through to Victoria Station. The tube driver got right into it and wished everyone a happy Waitangi Day over the public address system, and when he announced that we were approaching Victoria station our tube car inevitably launched into "Victoria" by The Exponents (it's like Jordan Luck wrote the song for such a moment). By the time the doors opened we had moved on to "Why Does Love Do This To Me", another great Exponents anthem, and we sung that as the horde surged along the platform towards the exit (see one of the videos for footage!). Across the road we went to the Shakespeare for another pint and a laugh but by now the afternoon was wearing on and Westminster Square and the traditional 4pm haka beckoned.

We arrived there a little early to see that our friendly bobbies had already begun to cordon off the streets surrounding the square for us, in an effort to give us as much room as possible. And boy did we need it as by the time Big Ben struck 4pm, it was standing room only as thousands of flagwaving Kiwis packed the square and streets. Winston Churchill's statue was scaled and he kindly held on to a NZ flag for us. There was such a noise that it was impossible to coordinate one big haka, so lots of different ones were begun instead. With so many Kiwis getting their shirts off for the hakas, Google Earth on that day must have shown a biblically bright flash as we all simultaneously unveiled our pasty London winter whiteness.

With the hakas all done and the national anthem sung, the pub crawl itself was at an end and most people then flocked to a pub to settle in for the rest of the night. The Temple Walkabout is the closest antipodean pub, but we decided to head to the Shaftesbury Ave Walkabout near Piccadilly circus instead. The move paid immediate dividends as we beat the queues and ordered the first round of Snakebites. For the uninitiated and wise, Snakebites are a dirty mix of beer, cider and blackcurrant juice that you can't really knock until you've tried it. Hangover in a glass perhaps, but at only 2 quid each the price is right. The Walkabout bars are Aussie themed pubs, and they embraced Waitangi Day for all the Kiwis who were there by playing a procession of Kiwi classics from back home. After a day of mangling songs on the tubes at last we had the actual music to keep us in key, so we spent the rest of the night singing and dancing to legendary NZ anthems like Slice of Heaven, Don't Dream Its Over and Anchor Me. Even How Bizarre and Poi E got some airtime, but unfortunately Sailing Away wasn't in their songlist. As the night wore on people started to check out, but we stayed until midnight - a good 15 hour effort in the honour of Waitangi Day.

Now that I have one under the belt, I think for next years pub crawl I will look to organise an appropriate drinking uniform in the same vein as you would for the Sevens. This year there were Buzzy Bees, Shortland St doctors, countless sheep and the ever present Beige Brigade shirts, so something Kiwiana will definitely be in play. As David Tua would say, O for Oarsome!

My first Waitangi Day Pub Crawl was brilliant and a great day to be a Kiwi in London. When you are a long way from home there is something reassuring about being amongst NZers, everyone happily mangling their vowels as only the Noo Zullan aksend can. There is a great feeling of community too, with names being forgotten in favour of "bro" and "cuz" for just a day. And I guess that's where an ex-pat Waitangi Day differs from one back at home. For us its about proudly toasting where we are from over a few pints, and I'd like to think that one day NZers might treat Waitangi Day as a date of national celebration rather than a political platform for airing historical grievances or a free day out of the office. We don't need to change the name to New Zealand Day to do have a true national day. We just need to get over ourselves and realise that its not about avoiding a cultural cringe or being white or brown, its just about being form the best little country in the world. And I say ka pai to that.

---