Asia, China, Hong Kong, Travel, Wild Horses

The Sampan Boats of Hong Kong

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The Sampan boats of Aberdeen in Hong Kong

While I was in Hong Kong I visited Aberdeen Harbour which is famous to both locals and tourists. The area is incredibly well known for its floating village and seafood restaurants that are located within the harbour. It’s also home to the Tanka people, who used to live on boats in the harbour and are closely linked to the fishing industry. During my time there, we travelled around on a traditional sampan, which is a flat bottomed fishing boat that originated from China. The Tanka people lived on them and while they were used on the rivers and coasts to transport people during the day, they also doubled as shelter at night. Nowadays, most are used to ferrying curious tourists on tours like myself. Although I passed on the seafood restaurants.

Aotearoa, Haast Past, Lake Wanaka, Makarora, Travel, Wild Horses

Lake Wanaka Towards The Haast Pass

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Lake Wanaka towards the Haast Pass

Is it possible to take a black and white landscape photo without channelling a wee bit of American photographer Ansel Adams? He truly is one the great’s of landscape photography and forever changed the way we view the world around us. If you’ve never heard of him you should look him up, you won’t be disappointed! This image I took on route to Makarora, beyond the northern tip of Lake Wanaka which leads into the Haast Pass and later on the West Coast.

Alexandra, Central Otago, Travel, Wild Horses

Alexandra

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Alexandra in winter

I was heading to the Lindis Pass via Tarras. However, as I wanted to capture the early morning light through the pass, I decided to spend the night in Alexandra as this would allow me to get there in the morning light. Rising early, I ventured up to the Alexandra lookout that sits on the hill overlooking the town. It was a typical winter’s morning with the temperature sitting below zero and smoke from early morning fire’s drifting across the valley. In the distance, the first rays of sunlight took hold of the surrounding hillside. I spent a few moments taking in the silence before heading in the direction of Bendigo and later on the Lindis Pass.

Aotearoa, Dunedin, Ōtepoti, Travel, Wild Horses

Speight’s Brewery on Rattray Street

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Morning light hits Speight’s Brewery

The historic Speight’s Brewery on Rattray Street, Central Dunedin is about to get a lot busier. The usual summer cruise ship season is due to get underway next month and Speight’s Brewery is always a popular location. Developed in 1876 when James Speight, while feeling a little thirsty, decided to see what would happen if he mixed a few malt and hops together. He then set-up a brewery with friends Charles Greenslade and William Dawson on Dunedin’s Rattray Street where it has been based ever since.

Aotearoa, Picton, Travel, Wellington, Wild Horses

Of Boats & Roads

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The Bluebridge’s Straitsman Ferry.

Back in June while scrolling through the latest news bulletins, I came across a rather perplexing story that captured my attention for several minutes. That’s fairly hard to do these days, but occasionally there are headlines that make you intrigued to find out the backstory. After all, it’s not every day you read the headline ‘Interislander ferry runs aground.’ Succumbing to click bait and curious to discover what caused the ship to park in Titoki Bay in the Marlborough Sounds instead of Wellington wharf, I began following the story. I later went on to read that the ferry Aratere ran aground after a crew member pressed the wrong button and engaged the autopilot, sending the ship off course. Eventually, with the lifespan of news not being more than several days, I forgot about the wrong turn taken by the Aratere and moved on. As did the rest of the country.

So, recently when I awoke to news that a Bluebridge ferry lost power and was adrift in Cook Strait I wasn’t really surprised. On this occasion the lights went out on the Connemara having departed Wellington for Picton at 9.38pm. Making it as far as Ōwhiro Bay on Wellington’s south coast, it then lost power shortly before 10.30pm and only by sheer luck, the wind pushed it in a southwest direction away from land. It was then picked up by tug ships shortly before 1am Friday morning and taken back to port. Now, is it just me or are problems with Cook Strait ferries seeming to become an all too regular feature in the daily news cycle. A quick look back over the breakdowns of the Cook Strait ferries over the past two years makes for shocking reading.

In January 2023, while sailing in large swells and high winds the Interislander Ferry Kaitaki lost power off Wellington’s south coast. The next month the sailing of the Interislander Ferry Kaiarahi was cancelled due to engineering issues as was a crossing of Bluebridge’s Connemara for the same reasons. Then, in March the Interislander Ferry Kaitaki was taken out of service due to engineering faults which was followed in April with the cancellation of several crossings by Bluebridge’s Strait Feronia. A few months later in August, the Interislander Ferry Kaitaki suffered steering issues and anchored in Wellington Harbour overnight while in November both Bluebridge’s Connemara and the Interislander’s Kaiarahi were damaged after hitting Wellington Wharf. Moving to this year and back in March all sailings of the Interislander Ferry Kaiarahi were cancelled for several days due to mechanical faults. In May, Bluebridge’s Strait Feronia lost power coming into Wellington Harbour and in June as previously mentioned, the Interislander Ferry Aratere ran aground in Titoki Bay in the Marlborough Sounds. 

Intrigued by the rather appalling recent record of ferries crossing the Cook Strait, I decided to conduct a little investigation where I found that the maritime history of the Cook Strait is littered with ship and boating accidents. As far back as 1836, a barque called Maria sank near Wellington’s Cape Terawhiti. The ship City of Dunedin was also wrecked near Cape Terawhiti in 1865 while the SS Penguin sank off the southwest coast of Wellington 1909. In 1952 when the TSS Arahura was decommissioned it was used for target practice in the waters of the Cook Strait, as was the HMNZS Wellington in 2005. The MS Mikhail Lermontov collided with rocks near Port Gore in the Marlborough Sounds and sank in 1972. Then of course there’s the famous Wahine disaster of 1968. 

While not wanting to start widespread panic, I would like to start a completely fictitious rumour based on nothing more than complete speculation and my own vivid imagination that the Cook Strait is cursed. After all, if we can have wild conspiracy theories about JFK’s assassination, the moon landing or that Elvis Preseley is alive and well, living in Cherry Springs State Park in Pennsylvania, then why not one about the Cook Strait ferry service. 

Consider the first Interisland ferry operated by New Zealand Railway between Wellington and Picton called the Aramoana. In 1962, while going into berth at Picton it was caught by strong winds, became tangled with a spectator boat and hit the wharf. Hurried repairs were made, just in time for its first commercial sailing on the 13th August 1962.  

Once, some years ago needing to travel from the South Island to the North Island, for something different I decided to drive. Just for a change. It had been a few years since I’d ventured onto a Cook Strait ferry so like an eager child who can’t wait for Christmas I happily booked myself and my vehicle and on a crossing. When the day of my voyage came, the weather appeared fine, a little windy and cloudy, but otherwise pleasant. Once aboard I found a seat near a window towards the rear of the ship and comfortably settled in. It wasn’t long before we were slipping out of Picton for a leisurely 3 hour trip to Wellington. That was as serene as the trip got because from that point on the voyage can best be described as hell! First we were informed that due to the extreme weather conditions ours would be the last crossing of the day. Next they advised anyone who suffers from seasickness to sit at the stern of the ship. Finally, they started dispensing sick bags. Now I don’t know about you, but when you’re on board a ship and they start handing out sick bags and you’ve only just left the port, you know it’s going to be rough. It’s like getting on a plane and being told to put your life jacket on while taking off! Our leisurely 3 hour trip to Wellington turned into over 7 hours of suffering and torment on the mountainous seas of the Cook strait. Upon arrival in Wellington, I was green, nauseous and couldn’t get off the boat fast enough! 

All of this leads me to the very clear and inarguably conclusion that not only is the Cook Strait cursed, but we must find a better way to cross the strait. I have a friend who is in favour of a bridge running between Picton and Wellington that could rise in the middle to let passing ships through. I however am a believer in the idea of having a tunnel to connect Picton to Wellington. It could have conveniently placed petrol stations and outlet stores along the way for weary travellers who need to rest. Also, needing to be in excess of 100km in length, it would have the added benefit of being the longest road tunnel in the world, thus being a major tourist attraction. 

Back in the 1990’s the Interislander ferry service ran an ad campaign with the slogan, ‘what a way to start holiday!’ Maybe they should bring it back, after all it’s a statement no-one can argue with.

Aotearoa, Otago Harbour, Ōtepoti, Travel, Wild Horses

Port Chalmers

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Carey’s Bay Towards Aramoana 

As I arrived in Waitati, a settlement just north of Dunedin, I decided to detour off the main highway. Instead, I turned onto Mount Cargill Road, which used to be the main route north from Dunedin until the Dunedin–Waitati Highway (SH 1) was opened in 1957. After around 4 kilometres, I made the decision to take another diversion and ventured off Mount Cargill Road and onto Blueskin Road, eventually arriving at the harbour village of Port Chalmers and later on Dunedin.

Aotearoa, Oamaru, South Island, Travel, Wild Horses

Oamaru

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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.

Aotearoa, Christchurch, South Island, Sumner, Travel, Wild Horses

Niche Coffee + Eatery in Sumner

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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.

Aotearoa, Christchurch, South Island, Travel, Wild Horses

The Theatre Royal In Christchurch

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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.

Aotearoa, Christchurch, South Island, Sumner, Travel, Wild Horses

Afternoon in Sumner

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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.

Aotearoa, Christchurch, South Island, Sumner, Travel, Wild Horses

Sumner

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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.

Aotearoa, South Island, Timaru, Travel, Wild Horses

Timaru

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Stafford Street in Timaru

Several days later I was driving to Christchurch. On the way, I stopped in the town of Timaru. It had been a number of years since I’d been to the centre of Timaru and so with a touch of interest I decided to get a coffee and have a look around. Now I don’t mean to be harsh, but upon parking my car I couldn’t help but notice how unremarkable the whole place seemed. I’m sure it was once a lovely spot, however the main street seemed slightly unkempt. Walking the city streets, my search for a takeaway coffee lasted close to 25 minutes after which time I found one place available. Deciding that I was faced with a lack of options rather than an actual choice, I discovered that after waiting an eternity the coffee was god awful. Feeling rather depressed and unsatisfied, I found my way to my car and joined a steady stream of traffic heading out of town with one thought in mind. Timaru made me look forward to Ashburton, and that’s not something you can say too often.

Aotearoa, Kyeburn, Mount Pisgah, The Pigroot, Travel, Wild Horses

Mount Pisgah on The Pigroot

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Mount Pisgah on The Pigroot

Just why it is called ‘The Pigroot’ remains a mystery, yet there are many theories. One of the more popular stories behind the name is that back in the goldrush of the 1860s, 70 and 80s, it’s said, wild pigs would often approach the miners’ and their horses. Another is that the slippery consistency of the clay on the hills reminded the miners of the muck in a pig root. Yet another is that in the 1860s and 70s, the stagecoaches and bullock-carts transporting miners to and from the gold fields was so awful that it was commonly described as a pig of a root to travel on. Whatever the reason behind the name, it was this road that I now travelled along leaving the mist and fog behind and now accompanied by clear blue skies.

Aotearoa, Danseys Pass, Kyeburn, Maniototo, Travel, Wild Horses

Fog At Kyeburn

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Fog At Kyeburn

The scene before me conveyed a sense of isolation and quiet stillness. In the distance a solitary, tall tree stood in the middle of an open, fog-covered field. The tree’s bare branches and the landscape around it appeared empty and quiet. The dense fog muted the background, creating a dreamy, atmosphere that only emphasised a lone presence in the vastness. Taking a last look at the silent, dreamy expanse I turned back towards my car before continuing the journey home.

Central Otago, Maniototo, Naseby, Travel, Wild Horses, Winter

Naseby

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Curling in Naseby 

By the time I arrived in Naseby the fog had cleared to reveal a beautiful, yet chilly winter’s day. Having taken a backroad as a shortcut, my first sight of the small town was of the Naseby Indoor Curling Rink and Adventure Park. A place that seemed incredibly busy for the middle of the week. Spotting a parking space, I squeezed my car in between two extremely large 4×4’s and proceeded to go for a wonder and find out just what attractions an Adventure Park on the Maniototo Plains holds. 

Across the road, in a stroke of what was simply dumb luck, I found a curling competition was taking place. Feeling rather pleased with my good fortune, I inquired with a few people who I assumed were locals if this was bonspiel? They quickly replied ‘no’ in between chuckles of laughter and explained that the ice wasn’t thick enough for that yet, however if the run of weather continued, they’d get close.  This, they went on to explain, was a local tournament. It was then that I sensed that I might be holding them up and as they seemed rather agitated and keen to get back to what was being referred to as the ‘ice’. Following them through a line of trees, I discovered a rather large gathering of people who were having the most wonderful time on a frozen outdoor pond. They were bundled up in winter gear, using brooms and curling stones on the ice. Nearby equipment and beverages were scattered along the edges of the pond, giving the whole scene a delightfully casual, community feel. I took some time to take in the surrounding landscape featuring tall trees and dry grass, while the light from the now clear sky cast long shadows across the ice. It really was the most peaceful, wintery atmosphere. And not one of them slipped over! A feat I was very impressed with.

Aotearoa, Central Otago, Kyeburn, Maniototo, Travel, Wild Horses

Kyeburn

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The Corner of Ridge and Kyeburn/Ranfurly Road near Kyeburn

I reached Kyeburn, a small rural settlement on the wide Maniototo plains which stands at the junction of several state highways. Here the mist started to lift a little, for a moment giving a glimpse of the surrounding fields. It was about the time I was passing through Kyeburn that I became hopeful that I might come across some curling at my final destination of Naseby. Recently, I had read that due to the prolonged low temperatures and formation of thick ice, several curling competitions had been held in the area and the current conditions I was passing through gave the indication that the run of low temperatures would continue for some time yet.

Aotearoa, Central Otago, Kyeburn, Maniototo, Travel, Wild Horses

Mist On State Highway 85

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Mist on State Highway 85

Leaving Dunedin I headed north for nearly an hour. The mid-morning traffic was light and I was pleased to find that apart from an occasional ute or truck, I mostly had the road to myself. This was a pleasant surprise as having driven this particular section of State Highway 1 between Dunedin and Palmerston enough times to do it blindfolded, I can tell you this isn’t always the case. Usually the road is filled with campervans, trucks and vehicles whose primary objective seems to be to frustrate me until I develop a healthy dose of road rage. However, on this occasion I arrived in the small town of Palmerston with relatively low blood pressure and that’s always a bonus. At Palmerston, I left State Highway 1, turned on to State Highway 85, heading inland for Central Otago and Naseby. More commonly known as the Pigroot (although no-one knows just why), I made my way over the Kakanui Ranges before dropping down onto the Maniototo Plains. Which is where I once again found the brainsucking, apocalyptic fog.

With the world having disappeared into a world of mist and fog and visibility reduced to a ten  metre bubble surrounding my car, I slowed to a speed that would give me enough time to dodge anything that might suddenly appear in front of me. This also meant I could enjoy looking at the heavy layer of frost that had settled on the fence lines that ran alongside the road. This continued for some time and at my slow speed, it also gave me the time to decide just what it was that I was going to do in Naseby. Until that moment, I didn’t actually know.

Aotearoa, Dunedin, Observation, Ōtepoti, Travel, Wild Horses

Breakfast At Maggies

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Maggie’s Tearoom – Bar – Arcade

While I pondered what to do for the rest of the day, I called into a local cafe called Maggies. Needing coffee and breakfast after taking photos on the harbour, I ordered and pushed my way into a booth to consider my options. The place was already reasonably busy with the morning work crowd, so I happily watched people rush around for a while as I fueled myself for the day. As I finished off the last pieces of bacon in front of me, while scrolling through my phone, I found a few notes I’d forgotten about. One of which said, Naseby – curling. Not recalling where or when I wrote this, or even many of the details as to why I wanted to visit the small town, I flicked my phone over to google maps. A search and a few seconds later, I was informed that the drive would take around 1 hour 45 minutes at a distance of almost 150 kilometres. Not having anything else planned for the day, ‘well why not’ I thought to myself. So with that, I left the busy cafe, settled into my car and headed for the small town of Naseby.

Aotearoa, Dunedin, Ōtepoti, Travel, Wild Horses

Sunrise Over The Otago Peninsula

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Sunrise over Otago Peninsula

I arose early the next day to find the world had returned to where it should be. In the preceding twenty fours the Universe had disappeared into a world of mist and fog but now, in the light of a new day, balance had been restored. To celebrate this unexpected turn of events, I wasted not a second longer and completing my morning ablutions in record time, I was out the door to enjoy every second the fresh, morning air. Having not been able to see the harbour the day before, today it was transformed into a near perfect mirror reflection of itself. I arrived to find the sun starting to peek its way over the distant horizon as the sky changed to a tranquil mix of yellow, orange and blue contrasted by the silent silhouette of the suburbs of the Otago Peninsula. It was still early and here I was with nothing much to do and so little time to do it in. I looked at my watch, coffee was needed and maybe a little bacon to get me going for the day. I was about to head off in search of breakfast when I thought to myself, what am I going to do with the day? It was just after 8am and I had already accomplished everything I had wanted to do for the day.

Aotearoa, Creativity, Dunedin, Ōtepoti, Travel, Wild Horses

The Southern Motorway

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Evening traffic on Dunedin’s Southern Motorway

The weather had turned! Gone was the previous few days of warmer temperatures and sunshine, only to be replaced with drizzly rain. It was the kind that brings in low lying apocalyptic mist and fog that makes everything apart from the two metres in front of your face disappear and you begin to wonder if something catastrophic is about to happen. 

Not to be deterred and wanting to keep up the early evening adventours I’d started several days previously, I went in search of traffic. My idea was to find a spot in the city where everything seemed to disappear into the distance, leaving nothing but a blaze of light behind. After all, even brainsucking, apocalyptic fog can be very moody under the right circumstances and if something momentous was about to happen, I wanted to be there to capture it. Looking out the window as I gathered my gear together, I noticed the drizzle was getting harder through the haze. ‘I’m about to get very wet’ I thought to myself as I headed out the front door into the unknown.

Aotearoa, Dunedin, Otago Harbour, Otago Peninsula, Ōtepoti, Travel, Wild Horses

Glenfalloch in Dunedin

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Evening on Otago Harbour from Glenfalloch

The next day, on impulse I headed for Portobello Road on the Otago Peninsula. Running along the edge of Otago Harbour from near the city to the peninsula suburb of Portobello, a distance of around 15 kilometres, the road has a popular shared walking and cycle path. A perfect place if your preference is for a lazy stroll along the flat. 

Having spent the last few days walking over hills and on beaches, on this occasion I opted for a more horizontal surface below my feet and the shared walk-cycleway of Portobello Road seemed just the ticket. Setting out from the local Vauxhall Yacht club on the edge of Otago Harbour, I followed the road which snakes along the base of the peninsula until sometime later I arrived at a popular spot called Glenfalloch as the hues of the evening sky took hold. There, I’d spent around half an hour photographing the sunset when it suddenly occurred to me I still had to go back to my car. And that was 6 kilometres away! So, as darkness took hold, I turned and headed for my vehicle, which felt quite some distance away.

Aotearoa, Beach Life, Dunedin, Ōtepoti, Travel, Wild Horses

St Kilda Beach

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Sunset on St Kilda Beach

The next day there was wind in the forecast and they were right! I was meant to be heading for a walking track on the Otago Peninsula, this time heading south-east instead of the north-easterly direction I began with the previous day. However, as my intended path passed by several cliffs, I decided it would be prudent to wait until the wind was scheduled to ease in the afternoon. 

So it was that I found myself on the Otago Peninsula heading for the well known Karetai walking track and beyond to Smaills and Tomahawk Beaches late in the afternoon. By the time I reached the end of Tomahawk Beach, a distance of some 6 kilometres, I had the inclination to head over the hill to St Kilda Beach where if I was lucky, the sun might be setting and I could be in time to capture the sunset from the rocks at Lawyers Head. Several minutes later, having passed over a golf course, I arrived to find that the wind from earlier in the day had dropped to a gentle breeze carrying with it the scent of salt-air and seaweed. I stood and observed the varying swells that moved between the rock pools for a few minutes as the tide flowed back and forth. All the while, as I predicted, the sun was setting over the Dunedin hills. Setting my gear down, and having enjoyed my previous few days walking in the evenings, I set upon a decision. With nothing scheduled for the next several days at least, where possible I would headout to photograph the early evening sky.

Aotearoa, Dunedin, Ōtepoti, Travel, Wild Horses

Dunedin’s Corduroy Causeway

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Wall Street in Dunedin

It’s not often I visit the city centre, but doing so gave me a chance to see the Dunedin Corduroy Causeway. An historical path 12 metres-long and 4 metres-wide made from native timbers and laid across what was once a boggy flax strewn marshland. Dating back to between 1848 and 1859, the timber causeway is the oldest known surviving structure from the days of Dunedin’s first european settlement. Uncovered 1 metre below ground in 2008 after shops on the main street were demolished so a new mall could be constructed, the Corduroy Causeway is considered nationally significant and is stated as a site of outstanding archaeological, historical and social value. These days it sits within a shopping mall called Wall Street, under protective glass in the exact position it was found. It really is a marvellous thing and it is a spot that I make a point of seeing, whenever I’m nearby. 

On this occasion it wasn’t the historical causeway that I had come to see but I was meeting a friend for a cup of tea and to discuss the state of world affairs. Something we do every so often yet always fail to reach a formal conclusion. On this occasion after an hour of heated debate we decided to adjourned proceedings until another time, and with that I headed out into the afternoon sunshine.

Aotearoa, Dunedin, Ōtepoti, South Island, Travel, Wild Horses

Steamer Basin In Dunedin

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Steamer Basin in Dunedin

The day was bright, clear and crisp and I had every intention of enjoying the sunshine for as long as I could. I parked my car near an art sculpture called ‘Harbour Mouth Molars.’ It’s one of those permanent art installations that city councils fund which locals either love or hate. Personally, I love them however where local opinion is concerned, I am very much in the minority. On this occasion, the harbour was as still as a mill pond and looked quite delicious as I took in the views of the Upper Harbour. I ambled through the mostly empty 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. 

A few families were scattered along the wharf, fishing and enjoying the sunshine and so I joined them in ambling along the dock. I had come to see the memorial to HMS Neptune. The HMS Neptune was a British cruiser in World War 2 and was assigned, along with the 150 New Zealanders on board, to the New Zealand Naval Squadron which was in the Pacific. In early December the HMS Neptune headed to the Mediterranean to replace naval losses suffered during the Crete campaign. On the night of the 18th December, 1941 the HMS Neptune intercepted an Italian supply convoy headed for Tripoli. She then proceeded to enter an uncharted minefield where after striking several mines she sank, taking all but one of the 764 people on board with her. Of those 763 personnel who died (including all 150 New Zealanders), 20 were from Otago. To this day, it remains New Zealand’s worst naval tragedy. 

Now, a memorial stands at Steamer Basin to honour those from Otago who went down with the HMS Neptune. It’s also a delightful spot to stand and watch the world pass by on a sunny Dunedin day. At a nearby pontoon, a family were having a lovely time fishing. Every so often they would reel in their lines and eagerly check the hook before recasting out into the water. They did seem to be enjoying themselves. Every so often someone would stop and chat to them before venturing off into the sunshine along the wharf. Further on, the same scene was being played out at various spots all around the basin, while every so often a cyclist would whizz past looking very serious. Why is it that cyclists always look so serious? I understand why people might choose to cycle instead of owning a car, however they always look like they are suffering extreme torture. Take the Tour De France for example, or any famous bike race for that matter. Can you honestly tell me, any of them look like they’re getting the slightest bit of pleasure from what they’re doing? I made a mental note of this and decided I would try and spot cyclists who actually looked happy, on the rest of my walk into town. With that thought in mind, I headed for the city centre.

Aotearoa, Dunedin, Ōtepoti, South Island, Travel, Wild Horses

George Street In Dunedin

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George Street and Wall Street in Dunedin

I turned onto Dunedin’s main street which has recently been upgraded at a cost of over $100 million with the aim of creating a people-friendly space in the city centre by way of adding new paving, street furniture, lighting, public art and a playground. Realising that I hadn’t actually done the area justice by way of a proper look, on my way home one day I decided to park several blocks away and walk to the main street for a closer inspection.

I walked along this newly developed section of street now which was rather charming and inviting. The redesign had created an atmosphere that encouraged ambling and strolling instead of traffic dodging. I passed familiar shops and buildings  that had received a fresh coat of paint, American style hamburger and pizza joints, restaurants featuring Asian cuisine along with cafes, clothing shops and all other manner of business you’d expect to see on the main street of a small city. As I strolled, I passed a series of malls, more clothing stores and eating establishments to name a few. Places I’d forgotten even existed. It was about this time that I crossed the road and started making my way back from where I came as music came thumping from a speaker, somewhere in the distance. While the foot traffic could best be described as light, I couldn’t help but notice not many people seemed to be carrying purchases. 

I began to wonder how these businesses even survived when I couldn’t help noticing a man sitting not far from me, in the very direction I was heading. He was short in stature with toothbrush style moustache wearing a brown suede leather jacket with the lettering WA studded into the back. Completing the ensemble, and the reason why I spotted him was of the round, black bowler hat that sat snuggly on top of his head. I had to admit, it looked quite stylish and rather fetching. Feeling annoyed that I hadn’t thought to wear my on top hat, I continued past the traditional outlets like Starbucks and McDonald’s, when suddenly a Subaru Legacy sped past in a blur of noise and speed in what  I could only assume it was an attempt at setting a land speed record down the main street of Dunedin. Next, a Toyota Ute came barreling past and judging by the good natured obscenities that were being exchanged between the two vehicles, I deduced the ute must have been the support vehicle in the attempt.

As calm settled to the shopping district once again, I noticed that not only had some vehicles forgotten about the 10 km speed limit but a lot of the University students seemed to have forgotten their clothing and while it was an unseasonably warm Saturday afternoon, there seemed to be an awful lot of midriffs, arms, legs and spray tans on show from both genders. I continued to walk feeling a little overdressed when it occurred to me that the music coming from the far end of the street seemed to be getting louder. I could see that it was being controlled by a man with a large afro and a black leather jacket, who was rolling a cigarette next to a trolley which I assumed was his. As I got closer and the ending notes of Dire Straits ‘Sultans of Swing’ made their way down the street, he started fiddling with an ipad which was connected to one of the largest speakers outside of a concert venue I had ever seen. What was even more impressive was his ability to stack and balance items on top of each other. In no particular order on his trolley was the very large speaker and ipad but also a tarpaulin, blanket, microphone, roll-up foam mattress, sleeping bag and what looked to me to be a blender! As I moved away and started to turn the corner I left him happily puffing away on a cigarette as the opening riff of Britney Spears ‘Baby One More Time’ came blasting out of the speakers. He seemed very happy I thought to myself as I turned the corner.

Australia, Melbourne, Travel, Wild Horses

Southern Cross Station in Melbourne

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Velluto Coffee at Southern Cross Station in Melbourne

Thirsty and hungry, I wearily I trudged through Southern Cross Station in Melbourne, that marvel of modern transportation architecture, presented itself in a manner that was nothing short of exhilarating. I was hot and tired, yet bathed in the golden glow of late afternoon light, the station seemed less like a hub of trains and more like a grand cathedral of travel. There, nestled comfortably under the sprawling, undulating roof—a roof that appeared to have been designed by a collaboration of science-fiction enthusiasts and overly enthusiastic origami experts—was a modest coffee stand by the name of Velluto.

The kiosk, with its clean, curved lines and warmly lit sign, was a beacon for the weary traveller in need of caffeine sustenance. It had a kind of quiet charm, as though it were saying, “Yes, you’re in a rush, but there’s always time for a good coffee.” The wooden panels along its top gave it a slightly rustic appeal, which was wonderfully at odds with the sleek, modern design of the station around it. The glow from the overhead lights cast a soft, inviting sheen on the counter, where an amiable barista attended to a customer who appeared to be contemplating the menu with the seriousness one usually reserves for selecting a life partner.

Behind the counter, the machinery of coffee creation hummed and whirred, promising the robust aroma and the soothing warmth of a perfectly brewed cup in that fleeting moment, Velluto was more than just a coffee stand. It was a small sanctuary in the bustling, architecturally impressive style of Southern Cross Station, offering a brief respite from the relentless march of time and travel.

Australia, Brisbane, Queensland, Travel, Wild Horses

Eat Street Northshore in Brisbane

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Eat Street Markets in Brisbane

When I was in Brisbane, one of the recommendations I was given was to check out the Eat Street Markets on Brisbane’s Northshore. Having been located on its present site since 2013, the owners took over an old abandoned docking site and transformed it into one of the hottest locations in Brisbane for food and entertainment every weekend. What makes it more intriguing is that the concept is really rather simple, with more than 50 shipping containers having been converted into food stalls. Located 10 minutes from the city, it’s one of Brisbane’s must do attractions to satisfy the taste buds!

Aotearoa, Central Otago, Hills Creek, St Bathans, Travel, Wild Horses

Central Otago

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The Hawkdun Range near St Bathans

When it comes to naming places, it pays to be first or to know the right person. Take British surveyor John Turnbull Thompson for example. He spent fifteen years in Singapore and has a long list of walks, views, roads, rivers, regions, parks and even a medical centre named after him due to his work in the region. Then, upon arrival in New Zealand, he set about surveying and exploring large sections of the South Island. As did so, he named many areas after places in Northern England and south-east Scotland where he and his family were from. Take the area formerly known as Dunstan Creek, when John Turnbull Thompson arrived to survey the area, he decided to rename the place. So, he chose the birthplace of his maternal grandfather, Abbey St Bathans in Scotland. Now the area is simply known as St Bathans

Dublin, Ireland, Travel, Wild Horses

Molly Malone Statue

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The Molly Malone Statue in Dublin

While walking the streets of Dublin’s fair city, I turned a corner onto Church Lane where I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone. Approaching the statue of the famous young lady and her cart, I joined a small crowd of people who were, like me, spending a few minutes taking in the statue before moving on with their day. So, my question is this. Is young Molly really dressed appropriately to be pushing a wheelbarrow filled with Cockles and Mussels through narrow, cobblestone streets? I would have thought a low cut dress wouldn’t have been the most practical of garments to be wearing, but then again, maybe I’m showing my age. Or, maybe it’s one of those things that us males simply don’t understand. Far be it for me to be giving out fashion advice to ladies, after all I can’t even go shopping for trousers or shirts without needing some sort of female fashion consultant or advisory group to oversee my choices. However, if people want to make statues of well endowed ladies in low cut tops, who am I to argue!

Dublin, Ireland, Travel, Wild Horses

Oscar Wilde House

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Oscar Wilde House

I left St Stephen’s Green where among other things I had been watching squirrels and talking to a man named Daniel who was feeding pigeons. From there, I walked for some time, in no-particular direction taking in the streets of Dublin. Every so often, I would come to an intersection where I would decide on the direction I took by way of how interesting the street seemed. If nothing seemed appealing, I would simply head off along a path. This amused me for some time, until I came to an intersection where Merrion Street West, Merrion Street Lower, Merrion Street North and Clare Street all converged. Crossing the road I spied a helpful disc stuck to the side of a building by the Dublin Tourism office. Like most places around the world, they put these up on buildings to help people like me know that this building is worth taking note of. 

In this case the plaque read ‘Oscar Wilde 1854 – 1900’, Poet, Dramist, Wit, Lived Here 1855 – 1878.’ Taking a second to process this information, it suddenly dawned on me that I had inadvertently and quite by chance come across Merrion Square and the home of the one and only Oscar Wilde. While disappointed the building was closed, I was nevertheless pleased with my find. I took a minute to take in my surroundings as people pushed past me on the wintry afternoon, clearly annoyed at the valuable space I was taking up for no apparent reason. Making up my mind that I needed to digest this find a wee bit further, I immediately headed for the nearest pub, where I ordered a pint of Guinness and settled in to read about the life and times of the famous Oscar Wilde.