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Daily Photo – Travels in small-town New Zealand
Tell people you’re spending the night in Queenstown and you generally get a look of indifference, usually followed by a prolonged state of apathy. There’s no follow-up question or lengthy discussion, you become another person visiting the resort town that calls itself (with more than a touch of self-indulgence) ‘pure inspiration’. On the other hand, tell people you’re spending the night in Winton and people get curious, they ask all sorts of questions, usually starting with – why?
Recently on a drive along the Otago’s Peninsula it struck me as I wound my way along twisting turning roads, bouncing out potholes and splashing through puddles that I was in need of a change of scenery. I had grown tired of the same familiar surroundings that make up life in a small city, I wanted to see something different, something fresh, something new. Well, maybe not new, but at least something I hadn’t seen on a weekly basis over the last six months! It occurred to me, as it just so happened, I was soon having a few days off – an ideal time to get out and hit the road, to once more see my own backyard as it were.
Over the next few weeks I began plotting possible itineraries that would both take me around the South Island and yet be manageable within three to four days. What quickly became evident was that I wanted to avoid the major tourist locations and cities. Stopping in places like Queenstown and Wanaka held little to no appeal. Where once they were the goose that laid the golden egg of New Zealand holiday destinations (and let’s be frank here) that egg was well and truly cooked years ago. I didn’t want to stand in long queues for overpriced food and beverages, or sit in endless traffic jams thinking ‘gee, don’t those mountains look lovely’, I wanted to drive along back country roads and through small forgotten towns. I wanted to visit places that had more sheep than residents, where traffic is blocked by farmers moving their flocks and see livestock grazing in a frosty winter paddock of rolling Southland farmland, bathed in the soft light of early morning.
I wanted to go back to places I’d visited years ago and had long since forgotten about, to Tautuku, Nightcaps and Dipton and see if I could remember them. I wanted to hear the long silence that fills the Ida Valley on a cold and chilly winter morning with the road vanishing into the Hawkdun Ranges far off in the distance.
I wanted to see quiet country towns with quirky bits of history, to read and listen to stories involving strange, shady, controversial characters from New Zealand’s past. I wanted to drive around and see small towns in-out-of-the-way places. I wanted to get out of cities and tourist hotspots and travel through small-town New Zealand.
Feeling inspired, one evening, having acquired a map of the South Island which I spread out and studied on the living room floor. I drew a circular itinerary following roads and towns that would take me all over Otago and Southland, writing various notes and scribbles beside selected places for later reference. And so, one July evening, as the fire blazed away beside me in my warm, cozy lounge, I made careful and considered preparations to depart through the quiet Dunedin streets, early the next morning.

