Daily Photo – Hoopers Inlet & Sandymount
Here’s a view of Hoopers Inlet and the rolling hills of Sandymount on the Otago Peninsula for you to enjoy.
Invercargill Town Hall & Theatre
Daily Photo – Invercargill Town Hall & Theatre
Invercargill became a city on the 1st March, 1930. I know this because I read the plaque that was in the Town Hall. I also discovered that when both a new Town Hall and Theatre was needed, local officials decided to combine the two projects – not without controversy. In some quarters, the building of a theatre was viewed as sinful due to religious beliefs while others felt that a theatre should be funded from private investment, not public money. Nevertheless the project went ahead and was officially opened in November of 1906.
Dunedin’s Quiet Moments: A Waterfront Evening
Dunedin waterfront at dusk
I ambled through the streets until I came to a section of wharf called the Steamer Basin. Located right beside the railway lines on the eastern edge of the main business district, it was here that cargo was once loaded, unloaded and passed through the Customs Department Wharf Office. Thus, showing the importance of the area as a transit point between markets in the first decade of the twentieth century.
For some time, the local city council has been developing this area by very strategically doing nothing at all. A strategy that successive councils have had in place for sometime now, and appears to be going according to plan. About every five to eight years a new, grand design is unveiled to the public which is always received with much oohing and ahhing, before eventually getting forgotten about and disappearing into the annals of time.
The most recent push to redevelop the waterfront happened in 2017 when a group of notable locals got together to produce blueprints and 3D modelling that would transform the Steamer Basin into a stunning array of buildings and spaces over a span of thirty years. The designs included public spaces, Ecotourism office space, cafes, a Marine Research Centre and Aquarium, walkways, cycleways, docks, exhibition and office spaces, apartments, a luxury Hotel and a Culture Centre. All done in a futuristic space-age design and finished with a foot bridge linking the waterfront to the city. Unfortunately, after the initial enthusiasm wore off, the plans floundered, the whole project was put in the ‘too-hard basket’ and life moved on. Leaving the Steamer Basin to look as it always does, a little past it’s best
I thought about this as I walked around and looked across the water to where a Marine Research Centre and Aquarium could now be standing. If that plan had gone ahead, we’d be eight years into a thirty year plan. I ambled a little further in the fading afternoon. Still, the people fishing seemed happy, and at least there’s a lovely pontoon that can fit up to twelve people on it.
Milton
Tokomairiro Presbyterian Church
The thing about small towns in New Zealand is—they really are just that: small towns. I don’t mean that in a mean, rude, or malicious way. I simply mean that’s what they are. Where once they may have been thriving hubs of industry with a lot going on, most of those big industries have long since moved. These days, apart from being home to people going about their daily lives, many of these towns have become more like places to pass through or maybe stop for a spot of lunch.
Take the small South Island town of Milton. I’m not saying Milton is a bad place, far from it. I quite like the town. I’ve stopped there many times and enjoyed wandering up and down the main street. But here’s the thing: with tourists flocking to the South Island to go bungy jumping, skiing, or hiking in the wilderness, strolling around Milton’s main street isn’t likely to make anyone’s top ten list.
Yet, I quite like wandering in small towns. There’s something rather splendid about ambling through with no particular purpose, then stumbling across a tearoom to rest for a while before continuing the journey. I hope they last for a long time to come.
10 Places to Visit in The Catlins
The Catlins River
Located in the southeastern corner of the South Island, the Catlins are a truly amazing spot. It features dramatic seascapes, dense native forests, and hidden waterfalls. It’s a place where winding roads lead to a breathtaking view or a windswept beach. Here is a non-definitive list of ten places to visit in The Catlins.
Purakaunui Falls – one of New Zealand’s most iconic waterfalls.
McLean Falls – yet another of New Zealand’s most iconic waterfalls.
Cathedral Caves – experience an amazing bush walk before arriving at an incredible natural feature.
Nugget Point – an iconic location with dramatic views of the coastline.
Catlins River – follow the track that follows the delightful river.
Tautuku Beach – walk to the end of the beach and spend the day exploring the peninsula which includes shipwrecks and an old whaling station.
Slope Point – the southernmost point of the South Island.
Curio Bay – visit the wonderful petrified forest.
Surf at Kaka Point or Purakaunui Bay – some of the best surfing spots with good quality surf and long swell periods.
Waipapa Point – walk to the lighthouse and see the beautiful vistas of the coastline.
Checkout other images from The Catlins, right here-right now!
The Devil’s Staircase
Lake Wakatipu at Kingston
To get to Kingston, at the southern tip of Lake Wakatipu, you have two options. However, it must be pointed out that it very much depends on where you’re coming from. If you’re coming from Southland, then you’ll pass through small towns such as Lumsden and Lowther before reaching the lakeside village of Kingston.
The other option (and possibly more interesting) is to turn off at Frankton on your way to Queenstown and pass through what is known as ‘The Devil’s Staircase’. Roughly 35 km south of Queenstown, it’s part of the drive between Queenstown and Te Anau and is considered a must-do leg of any Otago/Southland driving itinerary, both for the thrill of the drive and the spectacular views. Exactly how it got its name has become part of local folklore — in other words, no one really knows!
Given the nature of the road, one can only imagine what it must have been like to tackle the narrow, winding, and steep terrain, with sharp curves hugging cliffs above Lake Wakatipu, without the aid of a motor vehicle.
One story tells the tale of Captain Frederick Burwell and the Southland Hussars. Formed in the 1860s in response to fears of a Russian invasion, the cavalry corps were intent upon defending the Otago-Southland coast. At the time, there were many volunteer militias throughout New Zealand, so it wasn’t unusual for settlers to sign up to volunteer groups.
So, in 1885, when an April Review was held in Queenstown, up to 258 men from surrounding areas were due to gather. In Kingston, Captain Frederick Burwell needed to take his 30 men from the end of Lake Wakatipu up to the review assembly point in Queenstown. However, instead of going via boat, for some reason he decided to travel overland — a journey that took him and his men via the notorious Devil’s Staircase.
Travelling on horseback, they negotiated their way over small, narrow, and rugged tracks next to sheer vertical drops, before facing near-perpendicular rock faces in spots over 1,000 feet high. Once they reached the summit, a magnificent view of the lake came into view. Having passed the famous Staircase, the Kawarau River was crossed by punt, arriving in Queenstown late in the afternoon, where Captain Burwell and his men were warmly greeted, having successfully completed an arduous 40-mile journey.
Just why Captain Burwell opted for the deadly overland trip via the Devil’s Staircase instead of the easier ferry trip was never fully explained.
On the Road to Mount Cook
The road to Mount Cook
Here in the South Island, once you get into the MacKenzie Country, there are literally thousands of spots you can explore to take photos. Lake Ohau, Twizel, Lake Tekapo, Mount Dobson, and Lake Pukaki are just some of the areas you could spend weeks in and never run out of subject matter—and I haven’t even mentioned Mount Cook yet. Heck, on the way to Mount Cook you can even simply stand in the middle of the road and get interesting photos!
The Orokonui Ecosanctuary
The Orokonui Ecosanctuary
One morning, I found myself at Orokonui Ecosanctuary. The warmth of the sunlight spilled over tussock and flax and caught the curve of the visitor centre like it was a natural part of the landscape. The nearby ponds reflected the still morning sky as tui’s and bellbirds tuned up for their morning symphony. Somewhere out there, a takahē waddled through purposefully looking for a spot of breakfast. I hadn’t even started walking the tracks yet, and already, nature was making me grin like an idiot.
War & Peace
The Shotover River n the Queenstown Lakes District
Let me assure you of this much (and it’s absolutely true)—only in the Queenstown Lakes District could you drive through traffic that was so insanely stupid and chaotic, yet be surrounded by scenery that was so breathtaking it could be the backdrop for a Hollywood movie. There I was, sitting in a seemingly endless procession of cars, buses, boats, camper vans, trucks, and motorbikes—being overtaken by grandparents with walkers out for an afternoon stroll, slowly developing a healthy dose of road rage as my knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel. And yet, all the while, I was encircled by majestic mountain peaks that reached up into the sky and stretched beyond the horizon, and crystal-clear blue lakes that sparkled and shone in the sunlight. Nowhere else had I ever found a situation that was such a shambles—and so spectacular—all at the same time.
The Gullies and Terraces of Hindon
Hindon car and railway bridge
When Gabriel Reid discovered gold in a small gully near the Otago town of Lawrence in 1861, everyone went absolutely bonkers! Within weeks, the population of Dunedin skyrocketed as news of his announcement spread and everyone headed for the newly discovered gold fields in the hopes of getting rich. Following Gabriel’s initial find, small towns sprang up all over Otago as people with very little knowledge or experience in how to mine for gold arrived, and everyone went crazy with gold fever. One of those places was a small settlement in the Silverpeaks Mountain range near Dunedin, called Hindon.
At the time of the gold rush, nearly 1200 miners swarmed the gullies and terraces of Hindon hoping to strike it rich with an easy find. However, given the nature of gold rushes, once the gold ran out, miners quickly moved on to new goldfields while the real fortunes were made by the merchants selling shovels, the innkeepers charging exorbitant fees for a night’s rest, and the people who figured out that gold is easier to extract from the desperate than from the earth itself.
The Organ Pipes in Dunedin
Mount Cargill from the Organ Pipes in Dunedin
If we take ourselves back in time, say, 15 million years ago, we’d find Dunedin to be a very different place. While such a journey would bring with it a number of issues, one of the most pressing problems would be that annoyingly active local volcano that just won’t quit erupting. During one of these eruptions, molten lava flowed across the landscape. As the lava cooled, it contracted and cracked, forming hexagonal basalt columns that can be found all over the region and at well-known local places such as Lawyers Head, Blackhead, and the Pyramids at the Okia Reserve on the Otago Peninsula. However, over the last 10 to 15 million years, erosion has shaped the landscape and features like the Organ Pipes into the forms we recognise today and love to climb over.
Waterfall on the Ross Creek Trail
Waterfall near Ross Creek
I arrived to find the usually sedate stream had become inundated with water after three days of intense, heavy rain. The torrent of water before me cascaded over three levels and crashed through a series of rocks before continuing its journey through the gorge. In this area of the bush, several small rivers ran from around Ross Creek and the Leith Valley before connecting up with the Waters of Leith.
Otago Harbour from Harbour Cone
Otago Harbour from Harbour Cone
About halfway down the hill, I came to the road. On the way up, this is where the true ascent of Harbour Cone really starts. At this point, I realised I must have taken a wrong turn, I shouldn’t be on the road at all! I should be on the other side of Harbour Cone walking down the side of the hill, dodging sheep poo and enjoying the coastline views of the peninsula. Having said that, the view of Otago Harbour that was now in front of me was fairly amazing.
A Walk Up Harbour Cone
Otago Harbour from Harbour Cone
On an impulse, I’d decided to walk up Harbour Cone. Well, in actual fact that’s not totally correct. I looked it up the night before, so it wasn’t on impulse at all. I decided I was in need of a good walk, and now seemed as good a time as any to scale the 315 meters (or about 1,033 feet) to the summit! The previous evening, I’d looked up a local pamphlet, which said time: 3 hours, distance 4.5 km.‘Three hours? To walk 4.5 km? Even if it is uphill, surely that can’t be right’ I’d thought to myself. I’d noted it had stated: Difficulty—hard, very steep. I’d nonchalantly discarded this as meant for those people who were doing this sort of thing in jeans and sneakers and weren’t quite as outdoorsy as myself.
The next day, I woke up to rain. The clouds were dark and grey, a soft misty rain was falling. I’d read the track up Harbour Cone began from the suburb of Broad Bay. This is where I headed and undeterred by the changing weather, I parked my car and set off. Confident it wouldn’t take too long and I would be home in time to mow the lawns!
I hadn’t gone more than 50 metres—maybe 100 if I’m being generous—before my hands were on my knees and my lungs were already screaming. Clearly, this is something I’d wildly underestimated.
When I got to what I felt was about halfway up, I found a viewing spot and stopped there for a rest. Suddenly I heard the voices of two people coming down the track. When they arrived, they weren’t out of breath at all. In actual fact, they were in quite a spritely mood. They looked to be in their seventies and were wearing jeans and sneakers. I did my best to stand upright and pretend that I was just merely catching my breath in as manly a way as I could, trying not to act as if I was about to collapse at any moment.
“The lady informed me, ‘There’s rain in the forecast. I checked on my app—it’s meant to come down at 1:00 p.m.’ I looked at my watch—ten to one. ‘It’s a lovely view up there, if not just a tad windy.’
‘Enjoy,’ she added before bounding down the hill.
I trudged on. The rest of the walk up the hill was steep, very steep as it turns out. I wasn’t so much walking, as slowly trudging up the hill. Every time I looked up, just as I thought the summit must be near, I’d find in astonishment that another peak loomed further on. Wearily, I continued up the hill, wondering why I’d brought so much camera gear with me and cursing myself for bringing that extra lens and camera body that I knew I wasn’t going to need anyway.
At one point just as I thought that the top was in sight, I stepped over a row of rocks hoping to see the last few feet in front of me. “Oh, fuck,” I said, finding that instead of being at the top, I was still only three-quarters of the way up with another 20 metres to go.
At the summit, I stayed a while to take a few photos, enjoy the view and have a drop of water. It really was quite spectacular. I stood a moment, fixed my gaze beyond the horizon as the wind blew through my hair. Standing there, at the highest point on the peninsula, I suddenly knew what it must have felt like for Sir Edmond Hillary when he reached the top of Mount Everest. It was nice to have something in common with the great man. That’s when I noticed—it was spitting with rain again, this time a wee bit harder. And the wind? Oh yeah, definitely picking up. I hadn’t noticed it before, but now I was actually starting to feel rather cold. It turns out that pamphlet was right. It was steep, very steep and the weather was changing quite quickly. Who knew that the people that wrote these things actually knew what they were talking about.
I started my descent, taking in the view. About halfway down, I met a couple that were on their way up the hill. They were looking tired and exhausted. So I said to them in a spritely voice, “It’s a magnificent view up there. Starting to spit with rain a wee bit, though. Enjoy.” And off I went, striding down the hill like someone who hadn’t just been on the verge of collapse 20 minutes earlier.
Mount Allan, Powder Ridge and the Rock and Pillar Range.
Mount Allan, Powder Ridge and the Rock and Pillar Range.
Having made it to the Flagstaff summit, without the need of a deliberator or a rescue helicopter, both of which I took as encouraging signs, I pushed on along the Pineapple Track.
I wandered through the wide open tussock land and rolling hills until the view suddenly opened up in front of me. I paused for a moment, taking the time to enjoy the expansive views that looked out across Mount Allan and Powder Ridge, with the Rock and Pillar Range far off in the distance. It really was magnificent.
Dunedin City from Flagstaff
Dunedin city from Flagstaff
By the time I reached the summit the day had transformed into what locals call ‘a stunner’. The high cloud that had lingered in the morning had disappeared, leaving the day hot and fine with a zephyr breeze proving most welcome.
On a good day (and this was a good day), the view of Dunedin City from the Flagstaff summit, really is wonderful. You can see far out to sea and along the coastline as it stretches far to the south. In the other direction the track up the hill provides unspoiled views deep into the hinterland. It had taken me some 25 minutes to reach the summit- an effort I was reasonably pleased with given my lack of recent conditioning, and my reward was the all together splendid view that now sat before me. What’s more, at this point the track was free of dog poo, this gave me almost as much pleasure as the view.
The Flagstaff Track Looking Southwest
The Flagstaff Track looking southwest
Feeling daring, (and deciding to prove to myself how unfit I was) I went for a walk in Flagstaff Scenic Reserve. Set in the hills above Dunedin, the reserve features a multitude of tracks and paths that make up Dunedin’s Skyline Walk. One of these, the Flagstaff Track, was the one I intended to conquer.
When I arrived, the car park was already overflowing but before long, I found a spot and set off along a well maintained gravel path. The track I had chosen formed a loop that would eventually bring me back down a hill to my vehicle, but it started with a short but steep ascent up to a point known as Flagstaff. Within minutes I was passing through manuka scrub, which gradually gave way to tussock land. Occasionally I stopped to take in the view and give my lungs a rest, which didn’t really surprise me. What did surprise me was the sheer amount of dog poo on the track. Honesty, it was like an entire pound of dogs had been brought to the track and told to poo anywhere you’ll think someone will step.
Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against people walking dogs, I just don’t want to constantly dodge fly-covered excrement while trying to enjoy a walk through a scenic reserve!
Eichardt’s in Queenstown
Eichardt’s in Queenstown
It’s Welshman William Gilbert Rees who we can thank (or, depending on your views on tourist hotspots, quietly curse) for Queentown. A sheep farmer who arrived in the South Island of New Zealand via New South Wales in Australia, he came across the present day location of Queenstown while out searching for farm land with fellow explorer Nicholas von Tunzelmann (who seems largely forgotten about).
Rees then settled on the shores of Lake Wakatipu, established a sheep farm and happily went about life in the picturesque location. Until, gold was discovered in November 1862. One moment, Queenstown was a peaceful, sheep-filled paradise; the next, it was swarming with fortune-seekers who, judging by the speed of their arrival, had developed a sixth sense for gold. From that point onwards, all hell broke loose! The calm, tranquil shores of Queenstown became a rough shantytown that was overrun with miners. Rees, who presumably just wanted a quiet life tending his sheep, found himself in charge of an impromptu boomtown filled with dishevelled miners and questionable hygiene. To keep up with the boom, Rees converted his woolshed into a hotel, calling it the Queen’s Arms. He then went into partnership with Albert Eichardt who eventually changed the hotel’s name to Eichardt’s Queen’s Arms and then later simply Eichardt’s Private Hotel. So, when the owner’s say ‘so much of the local history has taken place in this spot’ they’re not exaggerating. Although, I wonder what Nicholas von Tunzelmann thinks of all this?
Cromwell & Lake Dunstan
Cromwell from the Bruce Jackson Lookout
I drove along the shores of Lake Dunstan, the weather was in an indecisive mood. Looking back towards Alexandra and Roxburgh across the rugged peaks above the lake, rain was in the air and dark clouds were gathering for the afternoon. Ahead, towards Cromwell, the day looked much more promising. The heavy cloud cover was starting to break and large patches of blue sky were appearing above the distant peaks of Mount Difficulty and the Pisa Range.
The Clutha River at Roxburgh
The Clutha River at Roxburgh
Usually when I stop in the town of Roxburgh, it’s for one of two reasons: to grab a pie from the famous ‘Jimmy’s Pies’ shop or to stock up on fresh, seasonal fruit from one of the orchards. On this occasion, unfortunately the pie shop was closed, and I already had plenty of fruit. So, my plan was to drive straight through without stopping. That idea quickly changed as I rolled through the town. On a last-minute impulse, I decided to take a detour through an even smaller settlement called Millers Flat. I had no real reason, but it was nearby. As long as I crossed the river!
The Manuherikia River
The Manuherikia River
The Shaky Bridge spans the Manuherikia River. Standing on the bridge, I looked down as the river gently flowed past. It seemed to be in a lazy mood, like it didn’t have much to do and plenty of time to do it. I scrambled down a nearby bank for a closer look. The river was low and slow, lazily winding its way past Alexandra before joining the bigger Clutha River. Looking ahead, the edges of the bank reflected in the still water. Above patches of blue peeked through the breaking clouds above. The river didn’t seem in a rush-and neither was I, though I suspected it had a better excuse.
The Shaky Bridge in Alexandra
The Shaky Bridge in Alexandra
In the morning I awoke with a clear head, feeling refreshed and ready for a new day. This was somewhat surprising. Usually, after spending all day at a concert I would greet the new day with a hangover that could floor a rhinoceros! However, the previous day having made the very grown-up decision to remain sober while attending the Gibbston Valley Summer Concert, the morning seemed full of possibilities. What’s more, I was ok to drive! So, after breakfast, I decided to celebrate my new found maturity by visiting the historic Shaky Bridge in Alexandra.
Tay Street in Invercargill
Tay Street – Invercargill
I rolled through the city of Invercargill. I’m never too sure what to make of Invercargill. Whenever I’m there, the place always seems to have a quiet, sleepy feel. This occasion was no different. I had a look around by walking up one side of the main shopping district and back down the other. It was quiet, very very quiet. I walked a total of four city blocks and only saw a handful of people the entire time. This seemed strange, even for Invercargill. The city itself was surveyed by British civil engineer John Turnbull Thomson who emigrated to New Zealand in early 1856 before working as Chief Surveyor of the Otago Province until 1873. I began thinking about him, as I crossed a depressingly empty street. By the time I reached the other side, I decided he must have been an optimist. Someone with a utopian vision for New Zealand’s southernmost city. Why else would he design the streets so humongously wide? Honestly, they seem massively wide. You could sail the RMS Titanic along the main street and still have room for the RMS Carpathia to come to its rescue.
Ōtākaro
The Avon River / Ōtākaro
Finding myself on foot in central Christchurch, I started following the path of the Avon River as it twists and turns through central Christchurch. As I walked and followed the river, I discovered that there are useful information boards that tell you all sorts of interesting historical facts about not only the area, but the river itself. Such as, for early Māori the river was a rich source of food and a centre point for meeting and trading. I also discovered that while this trading and food gathering was happening, children who would play on the river bank. Which is why it was known to local Māori as Ōtākaro, meaning ‘place to play’.
Wonderland – Makarora Lodge
Wonderland – Makarora Lodge
The greatest thing about Wonderland – Makarora Lodge is its remote wilderness location. Surrounded by bush, this is an amazing hidden gem that’s a perfect place to switch off from the world and decompress from everyday life. Surrounded by towering mountain peaks, lush native forest and incredible birdlife, during the day you can walk the spectacular bush tracks while at night you can enjoy the unpolluted night sky. It’s the perfect place to switch off, do nothing and live the simple life for a few days (if that’s your thing!).
Oamaru
The Waitaki District Council in Oamaru
The drive from Christchurch to Dunedin was uneventful. Which is just what you want to be able to say when you are travelling on part of the national state highway network. I detoured around the towns of Ashburton and Timaru, past Temuka, Makikihi and Winchester, but by the time I reached Oamaru I was ready for a break. A place that is able to boast the country’s oldest public garden, stunning Victorian architecture, two penguin colonies and having been home to human habitation since around AD 1100. Oamaru is a very nice place. It has its own delightful charm that makes you feel relaxed. It’s also full of surprises. You feel like you’re driving through any other typical New Zealand town, but then you turn a corner and everything changes. Suddenly you’re faced with a splendid collection of Victorian buildings near the harbour that are constructed from local limestone which tell the story of how the town grew on the prosperity of exploring goods of wool, grain and frozen meat from the 1860s and 1870s onwards. On this occasion, it was a quiet Sunday afternoon so I parked near the old colonial bank buildings near the harbour. I walked up one side of the street and back down the other before returning to my car and continuing the drive home.
Niche Coffee + Eatery in Sumner
Niche Coffee + Eatery in Sumner
The next morning I made my way to a small cafe called Niche. I spotted it the previous afternoon while ambling around Sumner and had bookmarked it was worth having a closer look. Promoting itself as being nestled in Sumner and all about great brews, great eats and great times, after I had finished my coffee and breakfast I was left a very satisfied customer. Thus, having completed everything I wanted to do, I made my way back to my car, checked the fuel gauge and started the five hour journey home.
The Theatre Royal In Christchurch
The Theatre Royal in Christchurch
I was in Christchurch to attend a Jimmy Barnes concert, something I had been looking forward to for some time. The concert was being held at the Theatre Royal in the heart of Christchurch’s CBD. Arriving earlier than expected, I took the opportunity to go for a stroll around some of the recently developed streets that make up central Christchurch. For the next hour I made my way through Victoria Square, ambled next to the Avon River, visited Cathedral Square, dined on Thai food and generally tried to remember what the place looked like before the massive 2011 earthquake. Eventually I made my way back to the Theatre where the rest of the evening was spent enjoying the iconic Jimmy Barnes, which I have to say was quite outstanding. Made more impressive by the fact that at 68 years, a mere seven months ago he was in hospital for emergency open heart surgery. About half way through the concert, a group of people which seemed to involve four ladies and three men, forgot they weren’t in their own living room and proceeded to have a full on argument in the middle of the concert! It was rather entertaining to watch and it all started when three very drunk ladies started dancing in the middle of their row. The couple directly behind the three ladies took exception to this and requested them to sit down. A man accompanying the three ladies didn’t seem to appreciate this intervention and took matters into his own hands. The whole thing then collapsed into a mash of finger pointing, pushing and yelling until security arrived and everyone involved was escorted out of the arena. Afterwards, I considered finding a bar and having a beer but I was tired and in need of sleep so with the evening pressing on, I headed back to Sumner.
Afternoon in Sumner
Kebab on the beach
I shuffled up from the beach and back along the Esplanade before making my way back to the main shopping district, only to find that most places had either closed or were in the process of ending business for the day. So I contented myself with weaving in and around the Sumner area. I passed the time wandering various streets peering in windows imagining what I would buy, looking at house prices and reading menus. The appeal of the whole area was easy to see. It wasn’t hard to imagine the place bustling with people in the late summer sun, dining al fresco, enjoying a bottle of red wine with a serving of linguine and clams or downing a cold beer while eating pizza in the heat of a summer evening. I was almost tempted to book accommodation for a summer stay right there and then, however not having the faintest idea whether I’d already made plans for summer and not wanting to have to pay another cancellation fee for double booking myself due to rash and impulsive decisions, I decided to keep walking. Plus, the time was getting on and I was due to head into Christchurch and the Theatre Royal.
Sumner
Sumner Beach
Having navigated my way out of Timaru and while driving through the town of Ashburton, I came across a mad lady in a Suzuki Swift. Finding myself in a line of traffic and after passing through a set of traffic lights, I came to a point where the lanes merged. It was there that I came across a bright yellow Suzuki Swift, driven by a little old lady who could hardly see over the steering wheel. Her idea of merging lanes was to simply drive straight and let the traffic around her scatter like pins in a bowling alley. Now, having arrived in Christchurch’s seaside suburb of Sumner, I dumped my belongings at my motel and immediately headed straight to Sumner beach to wander in the setting sun.