Daily Photo – Hamilton Road, Bluff
One of the truly lovely things about driving around New Zealand is all the incidental things you come across that speak of daily life. And what’s more, to New Zealanders it’s nothing out of the ordinary, but to everyone else it’s just plain strange. At any moment you can find yourself passing honesty boxes selling fruit, vegetables, or any other manner of homegrown produce; hand-painted signs advertising horse poo for sale; or a row of second-hand lawnmowers neatly lined up at the roadside. Sometimes you’ll pass an old, weather-beaten shed that doubles as a bus stop and a meeting point, its walls scrawled with generations of initials. Other times it might be a letterbox shaped like a cow, a jet boat, or a microwave.
These small, unassuming details are what catch you off guard. They’re not staged for tourists or polished for effect. They just exist, part of the fabric of daily life – so ordinary to locals they hardly notice, yet to an outsider they feel like discoveries, the kind that make you slow down, smile, and wonder what else the road ahead might casually reveal.
Daily Photo – Bluff
I like Bluff. It’s got a sign that points in twelve directions at once, a graveyard for ships, and a lighthouse. Also, it’s not Invercargill. That alone is worth celebrating. There’s even an enormous painting of what can only be described as an underwater steampunk chicken lounging in a copper bathtub. Why? Who knows. Bluff doesn’t need to explain itself.
There used to be a house where every inch of the inside was covered in paua shells which is long gone unfortunately. Mind you, they do have a food truck that is frankly, far better than they have any right to be. Last time I visited, it was bucketing down with rain. They actually wrote down my licence plate and brought my food out to me in the car. Now that’s service. I know places that can’t even remember my order while I’m standing at the counter, let alone tracking me down when I’m hiding in the car.
This time, I just drove around and admired the port from various angles, finishing with a view from up on the hill. It looked like a giant, moving jigsaw puzzle I couldn’t solve and certainly didn’t understand. Out on the horizon, Invercargill loomed in a faint grey haze. That was my next stop. Lucky me.
Stirling Point in Bluff
I was in Bluff. The last time I was standing at the southern tip of the country, it was a bracing 5 degrees. That day, the weather had been miserable. The rain was heavy, a southerly roared across Foveaux Strait and inland somewhere it was snowing. On this occasion, the weather was a more agreeable 18 degrees. A few wispy clouds hung in the sky while a gentle, cool ocean breeze drifted in from somewhere beyond. This was Bluff-Stirling Point at its absolute best. The small car park was full to overflowing and while some had gotten creative with their parking, others were applying the wait and hover method, while I, striking a moment of good fortune, simply guided gracefully into a spot that appeared in front of me like the parting of the Red Sea. Pleased with my luck, I set off along a walking track. There was a skip in my step and a whistle on my lips.
Street art in Bluff
On my way through Bluff I stopped at a food truck to grab some lunch. After ordering and while I was waiting, I went for a walk and looked at some nearby street art not too far away. The thing was, despite the weather being pretty bloody miserable, there was something quite appealing about the town, in a confusing sort of way.
Stirling Point in Bluff
I was greatly taken by Bluff. Despite the fact that when I was there, it was a bracing 5 degrees, the afternoon swell that was hitting the nearby rocks was only getting larger and I was struggling to stay upright in the wind surges. However, there was something about the town that seemed quite appealing in a confusing sort of way. There’s the Motupōhue Scenic Reserve to explore that includes the Tōpuni track to the top of Bluff Hill which provides spectacular views over Foveaux Strait and the Southland Plains. Close by there’s also the Glory track through dense bush and the Foveaux Walkway looking out at Foveaux Strait to Ruapuku and Rakiura Islands. Along these tracks you can also see the World War II gun emplacements while the shoreline was home to a whaling station at one point in history. Of course, you can always do what I did and park at the famous Stirling Point signpost which marks the end of State Highway 1 to see how far away you are from places like London, New York or Sydney.
The famous Bluff signpost
It wasn’t the worst weather I’d ever been out photographing in, however it was pretty bloody miserable. At that moment, as another intensely heavy rain shower thundered past, I realised I was the only one stupid enough to not stay in their car. So there I was, all alone in the driving rain as a furious southerly roared across Foveaux Strait, standing at the southern tip of the country. It was a bracing 5 degrees, inland somewhere it was snowing heavily, the afternoon swell that was hitting the nearby rocks was only getting larger and I was struggling to stay upright in the wind surges that buffeted the coastline. Yet, I couldn’t be happier.
… from a Small City. My daily musings from Ōtepoti to get you inspired. Read the blog, view the photos, embrace the creativity.
