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Published: November 17th 2008
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The Cape Farewell Spit
Where the true Kiwi's come from according to local legend Sunrise at 6:20am and I missed it by half an hour, BUGGER!!! Oh well as consolation Leyton called me over to the house and pointed out four White Faced Herons sat in the pine tree in his garden, perfectly silhouetted against the blue morning sky. Great birds and so photogenic.
At 9am we made our way up to the café for a coffee and to meet our guide for the tour as well as the other people on the four and a half hour trip. Chris Pomeroy was our tour guide; he instantly reminded me of the late Steve Irwin, I’m glad I didn’t bring my swimming trunks.
Things didn’t start well. By the time we had reached the beach, a three minute drive, a young boy on the trip with his dad and started really kicking off. Screaming and jumping about, he didn’t want to go and he wanted to get off. Chris handled it very well and stopped the bus to see if he would calm down. The father took him off and decided to forgo his trip, smiles all round. It’s a good thing, Pilar was fashioning some kind of bludgeoning weapon and it could have
White Faced Heron
My consolation prize for missing sunrise got nasty. What really made us laugh was the fact that a women also on the bus piped up after we had set off again and told us that the brat was ‘her stepson and that she was quite embarrassed about the whole situation’ I think the dad was in for a roasting when she returned.
The trip along the Farewell Spit was amazing. Chris was an excellent guide and really new the local history, flora and fauna and not least of all the real conservation issues facing NZ. We had a good chat at lunch time, coffee and flapjacks at the old lighthouse. He asked me to take photos of the tour and especially of his interaction with the group, it was my pleasure and it got us two and a half hours extra on the tour, it’s all good. It’s a shame we didn’t see to much wildlife as the winds were very strong, it didn’t really take anything from the day and the credit for this goes to our superb guide.
Back at the Café we all exchanged emails with the group, had a beer and some carrot cake and said our goodbyes. Leyton
and his wife Jenny came over and asked us if we would like to join them at their favourite restaurant ‘The Old School Café’, for a good steak and some beers, how we could refuse especially as it was the same name as our old house in Wyre Piddle.
After digging out my crumpled white, hemp cloth shirt and hanging it off the van so that the wind might freshen it a little., A quick wash, chipping away some of my crusty bits we eventually met Leyton and Jenny and set of for dinner.
When we arrived at the ‘Old School’ we were pleasantly surprised at the simple, rustic interior and a really welcoming group of people. A few beers later and everyone were chatting. I apologised for my un-ironed shirt, I looked up at Leyton who was sat opposite. Leyton had obviously made the effort for this evening’s dinner. He was dressed in a body warmer, t-shirt, shorts, knee length black socks and shoes. When I commented on my slightly creased shirt he just rolled his eyes as he picked dried egg off his body warmer, I just love Kiwi’s.
Just before dinner arrived I visited
the bar and started talking with a guy, an ex-pat called Bruce. Bruce had quite recently retired through conscience from the Pharmaceutical industry apparently; he was a salesmen or drug pusher as he referred to it. He started talking about the state of the economy and that he was looking to move some of his savings out of the fiat money. I can see some of you guys who know me best smiling. Anyway he insisted we all go back for coffee. John (Studley) if you’re reading this Bruce reminded me a lot of you, all good by the way.
Bruce’s house was spectacular from the moment we entered. He collected art, not just paintings, sculptures, African tribal pieces, glassware, stuff just everywhere. He also had green fingers if you know what I mean.
We hit it off straight away and had a great night, Leyton played the Didgeridoo, drinking expensive brandy and having a tour of the house and his collection. I have to say I didn’t see one item in his collection that I didn’t like. Unfortunately this has been the only time I didn’t have my camera on me, typical. I have a feeling we
will meet again though, we we’re very much reading from the same page with our ideas and philosophies, a good man.
But the fun hadn’t ended for the night, oh no. At about 2am we decided it was time to go home. Within minutes Pili and I realised Leyton who was driving was completely hammered and that we were going to die in a ditch in New Zealand. Not much rattles me and I like to think I can keep calm in a crisis, well tonight that was not the case as I foresaw my body being found, ass in the air with a Pukeko (a New Zealand moorhen but much bigger) sticking out of my ass as I lay rotting next to my beloved Pili in a New Zealand ditch. NO EXAGERATIONS. When finally after approx 6km we talked him into stopping the car and letting Jenny drive, she got in the drivers set and just put her foot to the floor, her car door was still open!!!!!!!!!!
It’s amazing what fear can do; Pili and I both started to giggle but at the same time trying not to make ourselves heard. When we finally were dropped
outside our camper, we ran inside and locked the doors and cried with laughter, or relief I’m not sure. What a VERY surreal night and a highlight of our trip so far to the south island. Thanks Leyton, Jenny and especially Bruce.
In the morning we had a slow start, we filmed the sunrise, slept a little more, ate breakie and then I transferred some photos that I’d taken on yesterdays tour for Chris the guide.
About midday we made our way up to the café to say our goodbyes to Leyton & Jenny, we were a little sad as they had been so friendly to us and had supplied a very memorable night!!!
Before leaving to Spit we decided to make a quick visit to a couple of beaches we’d been told about. Cape Farewell (very windy but dramatic) Archway Isle and Wharariki Beach. We gave up on Wharariki because of the sandblasting we were getting and decided to investigate the small tidal river because Pilar had thought she’d seen a fur seal. Sure enough two young female fur seals were playing and sheltering for the wind. We snuck up to within 20ft and watch quietly.
They were just enjoying each others company playing in the warm water, finally they noticed us. It didn’t seem bother them at all that we were so close. We edged down the sand bank closer, filming all the time. Eventually we were within 2ft of them and they seemed as curious about us as we were with them. If fact they seemed to really enjoy our company. I was constantly talking in a calm voice to them and they eventually came out of the water right to my feet to check us out. In all we spent about an hour and a half with these incredible creatures, this has been the number one highlight for us in our six weeks travelling. We have it all on film plus stills, not that I will need them, these memories will go with me till my last day.
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