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Published: March 23rd 2009
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Saturday March 21, 2009
This is the Equinox, Vernal or Autumnal depending on your side of the Equator. I’m glad to be going back to the Vernal. Spring is my favorite time of year. Four hours of driving today, mostly boring. There is a power outage in Takapo. In fact I had to wake up the manager to unlock the electrically controlled gate to let me out of the park. No power, no coffee! Before leaving I go out to take some pics of the Church of the Good Shepherd, a local landmark. Down the road is the first of today’s little surprises. Stopping in Fairlie for fuel, I notice a handful of cars around a place on the corner. The name is simply EAT, deli-bar. Tasty pancakes and bacon and great coffee. Ron, if he isn’t on your list he should be. On top of all that free Internet. http://www.eatdeliandbar.co.nz
As I leave there are locals setting up for the Saturday market, even a lady spinning yarn. The next stop is Geraldine. I don’t know exactly what it was but I really liked this town. I went to their market and bought some apples and plums, and
had an interesting conversation with the older couple selling them. I also saw a local attraction, a mosaic mural of the battle of Hastings (or was it Trent?) made completely of the small metal teeth from spindles on knitting machines. It copies an original tapestry approx. 40 ft. long and a foot high that had the end torn off. The man and his daughter researched every aspect of the story and created an additional 20 ft. based on their findings. The wife of the artist manages their wool products shop. She told me it took him 25 years to make it. It’s massive!
My destination for today is Akaroa, a coastal village founded by the French. The drive is generally flat until I pass through a place called Little River (I have no idea if it is in any way related to The Little River Band from the ‘70’s but I think they were Aussies, help someone) I thought I had seen the last of curvy roads. Not so. The last 20k out to Akaroa is one of the slowest up and down, left then right roads I have driven. I finally arrive. The holiday park is about halfway
Fireman's Memorial
A section of the twin tower was sent to Christchurch as an international monument to fire fighters and all rescue worker. up a hill & I have an unobstructed view. Down the hill to look around. It is an interestingly historic town in a scenic little harbour although a little touristy. Saving the best for last, I stumble upon Ma Maison, currently nominated as one of the best restaurants in NZ. I had wine, green-lipped mussels, a salad and a triple citrus desert, a lemon tart, lime ice cream and an excellent lemon cream briolette. Only thing was I had to walk back up the hill to the park. I have a restless night because 25-30 mph wind gusts are buffeting the van.
Sunday March 22, 2009
“Ultimately, what people have to offer each other is the stories they have lived, the adventures they have had, and the tragedies they have survived.” Michael Meade
In sum I guess that is what this tale has been all about. Up early I enjoyed eating breakfast with a bunch of folks my age at the park kitchen. Being my last day in the camper I was giving away all the stuff I had left over. We all had a good laugh when one guy said he knew I was from America
Akaroa
foggy & windy because I was giving away peanut butter and jelly. He asked if I had tried Vegamite, which I haven’t. Once he explained it was a byproduct of brewing it still didn’t sound all that tasty. Leaving Akaroa I drove back over the “hill” out of town. Note: don’t drive out here on a weekend. There was a silver Holden V8 driving up my exhaust pipe and on coming traffic looking like rush hour in Christchurch. I pulled over in Little River for a second cup of coffee. Not far into Christchurch I managed to drive around downtown quite a while, feeling totally lost. I swear there must be 20 sections of the street Oxford Tce. I learned later that Tce is the NZ abbreviation for Terrace. I eventually find Pomeroy’s but they don’t open ‘til 3:00 on Sundays. I spend the next two hours walking around downtown succeeding to get lost again before finding the van. Back at Pomeroy’s I meet Steve and get settled in. The B&B has a comfortable feel and is in a building adjacent to their Pub & Restaurant. I take 30 minutes to unpack a month of living then drive out to the airport to
drop off the van. That done I take a cab back to town. Remembering the deal on tipping I intentionally gave the driver an extra $2, which he immediately tried to give back to me. That would never happen in NYC. In fact you would probably get a dirty look for shorting the driver. Back at Pomeroy’s I go over to the pub for dinner. Steve is there, greets me with a big smile and offers to buy me a beer. I choose a lager from the 15 or so options he sells and we sit and talk. I comment on how often I have dealt personally with owners in my travels. In words similar to those of Glenda Betts he says how aware he is of representing NZ and how important it is personally that visitors take away a positive impression. A jazz trio is playing. Sunday night is music night. As I sit eating my grouper chickpeas and spinach, I notice close by “Danny” playing air guitar with his eyes closed. When the tune ends he introduces himself as a “straight seventy-seven year old bachelor”. We talk jazz blues politics geography and the story of his fifty years in New Zealand after immigrating from the U.K. He confuses K.C. with St. Louis as we sort out the songs “Goin’ to Kansas City” and “Route 66” which went through St. Louis. The place closes up early on Sundays, about 8:30, which is o.k. by me as I need a good nights sleep after enduring the gale winds of the previous night.
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