Central Otago, Ida Valley, The Art of John Caswell, Wild Horses

Morning On Poolburn Road

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Morning on Poolburn Road

Occasionally I find a subject by simple chance. Driving through the Ida Valley on Poolburn Road one day I found this small, isolated house constructed from stone and schist. Thinking it would make an interesting subject for a photo and assuming it was abandoned, I decided to call past it early the next morning on my way to Poolburn. Such unexpected and serendipitous moments appeal to my curious nature. They also require an openness to be guided by what the subject demands. In this instance I was drawn to the moodiness of the sky and the half light of morning which created questions for the observer to answer. Much like the house itself.

Dunedin, Otago Peninsula, Ōtepoti, The Art of John Caswell, Wild Horses

Chimney Stack At Hereweka

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Chimney Stack at Hereweka

While I enjoy walking through cities and towns transcribing what I see in words or images, I also enjoy getting out to more remote locations. Every so often I find myself drawn to creating photos that are more of a long stare than a quick glance. There are element’s of remoteness, past habitation, time, the passing of time and timelessness that I find myself coming back to again and again. It might be a fence line covered in mist, an old metal shed, an abandoned house or a stone wall on a rolling hill but they all hold deep and compelling meaning to me. In this case an old chimney stack on the former farmstead owned by William Larnach in the 1870’s made an interesting subject. In this image the challenge was ensuring the sunburst coming through the trees didn’t dominate the whole scene.

Dunedin, Ōtepoti, Spring, Wild Horses

Tulips In Spring

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Spring tulips in Queens Gardens

From the Dunedin Railway Station I walked the short distance to Queens Gardens. Situated on reclaimed land and developed in the late 19th Century, the gardens were officially named Victoria Gardens in 1904 but that name quickly developed into “The Queen’s Gardens”. The gardens have several notable statues including Queen Victoria, Donald M. Stuart, the Dunedin Cenotaph and the Dunedin Millennium Cross. Located directly in front of the cross is a lovely triangular shaped garden that on this occasion featured a lovely bed of tulips in the full joys of spring. It was this line of tulips nestled in front of the Celtic Cross that I had come to photograph.

Dunedin, Ōtepoti, Spring, Wild Horses

The Equinox

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Spring at Dunedin Railway Station

Let’s get scientific for a moment. There are two days every year when night and day are the same length. These are called the equinox or a solar equinox. That is to say that the sun appears directly above the equator, rather than north or south of it. Here in New Zealand the autumn equinox happens in March (March 20 this year) and the spring equinox happens in September (September 23 this year). Now, for those in the Northern Hemisphere they will obviously be reversed. What all this means is that for us folk who live in the Southern Hemisphere the daylight hours are now longer than the night time hours and for those that live in the Northern Hemisphere, the nighttime hours become longer than the daylight hours. So, while all the nations north of the equator are heading into the autumn and winter months, here in Aotearoa we are dusting off speedos, bikinis and bringing out the jandals because summer is just around the corner. 

To celebrate the equinox, the official start of spring and all the glorious colour that is returning to this part of the world, I risked a heavy dose of hay fever and went in search of some spring blossom.

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.

Dunedin, Ōtepoti, Wild Horses

Jetty Street Overbridge

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Jetty Street Overbridge

It’s not often you can literally see the thinking of town planners in action, and that’s what I love about Dunedin’s Jetty Street overbridge. Opened in 1977 after the old bridge made of Port Chalmers bluestone was decommissioned, it is a wonderful example of urban development in its simplest form. By the 1970’s, the old bridge built between 1883 and 1886 for horses and carts was no longer fit for purpose and a new bridge was required. These days, if you stand below the bridge on Jetty Street, you can literally see their thinking of just squeezing it directly between two buildings. The upside of this grand design is that while driving over the bridge you can look into office windows on the second floor. 

Creativity, Dunedin, Ōtepoti, Wild Horses

The Terminus Hotel

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The Railway Central Terminus Hotel

The next day the clouds had rolled in, the temperature had dropped and heavy rain had lashed the city from sometime the previous evening. I spent a lazy day hunkering inside where it was warm, however by mid afternoon I was ready for some fresh air. With the rain showing no sign of easing, I tucked myself into a jacket and headed out into the city streets looking for puddles. Upon arriving at Queens Gardens, I spotted the former “Railway Central Terminus Hotel” reflecting in a rather large puddle near a set of traffic lights on Cumberland Street. Built in 1880 and described at the time as a conspicuous object that was considered an important addition to the city’s hotel accommodation, it was recently redeveloped into New York style apartments. Now, the building is considered an important part of the city’s warehouse precinct.

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.

Dunstan, Maniototo, The Pigroot, Wild Horses

The Pigroot Hotel

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Afternoon on the Pigroot

My drive back to Dunedin along the well known Pigroot took me from the Maniototo Plains to the Kakanui Ranges before dropping down into the Shag Valley and on to the small town of Palamerston. On the way I stopped at the Pigroot creek bridge near Mount Obi. Back in the 1880s, this was the site of the Pigroot Hotel. Officially named The Halfway House but more commonly known as ‘The Pigroot Hotel’ and run by proprietors John and Isabella Freeland, the popular coaching hotel provided food and accommodation for those travelling to and from the goldfields in Central Otago. That was of course until the Central Otago Railway opened and made travelling easier, quicker and much more comfortable. 

As I left my car in the nearby picnic area , I spied a memorial that had been erected by the descendants of Freelands. After several minutes of imagining what the scene must have been like in the throes of winter backdropped with a busy hotel I eventually manoeuvred my car back onto State Highway 85 later on to Dunedin.

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.

Danseys Pass, Dnseys Pass, Kyeburn, Maniototo, Wild Horses

Fog On The Maniototo

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Fog on the Maniototo

I had left Naseby under the assumption I would drive straight home. Well, as straight as you can when you have to cover a distance of 135 kilometres and travel on two different state highways! Retracing my drive through the Pigroot, it wasn’t long before I was once again engulfed in brainsucking, apocalyptic fog. It also wasn’t long before I came across the turn off to Danseys Pass. Located in the Kakanui Ranges, the mountain pass was first used in the 1850’s to link rural towns in the Maniototo region with rural places on the other side of the ranges like Duntroon and Kurow. For a moment I considered taking this a very major detour of venturing up through the pass and returning home to Dunedin via Oamaru. While I was pondering this option on the side of the road, I became aware of the presence of a farm shed lost in the mist and fog that made the decision for me. There, standing alone in the fog, was an old, weathered metal barn. A power pole stood nearby, its wires cutting through the misty air,  the ground damp from the heavy dew stretching into the fog.

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.

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

Dunner Stunner Sunset

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Sunset above Dunedin

I had made my way to the soldiers memorial on the Otago Peninsula. The monument stands an impressive 280 metres above sea level and recognises those who lost their lives in World War I and II. While it’s a steep climb, the end result is an impressive view of the Otago Harbour. From there, I took a track down the other side of the hill which led me through farmland to a very delightful lagoon on the opposite side of the peninsula. It was while I was wandering around this lagoon taking in the bird life, that I realised my car was still at the top of the hill. So, not fancying the idea of retracing my tracks back through the steep farm paddocks, I detoured to the not so steep Centre Road which links the road heading over the top of the Otago Peninsula to the suburbs of Ocean Grove and Tomahawk. A while later, after a slow walk back up to the top of the peninsula, I noticed that the sky was starting to turn a wonderful hue as the light faded into evening. Having come this far, I figured a few more steps wouldn’t hurt as I pushed on up to a lookout to view the evening sunset. 

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.

Dunedin, Otago Peninsula, Ōtepoti, South Island, Wild Horses

Larnach’s Farmstead At Hereweka

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The byre at the former Larnach farmstead

I spent a good part of the day exploring the tracks around the Hereweka property near Harbour Cone on the Otago Peninsula. I walked up and down hills, climbed over and under things, took wrong turns, stepped over and in sheep poo and generally rather enjoyed myself. At one point I considered climbing the summit of Harbour Cone but at the last minute thought better of it. 

The whole area and a substantial block of land beyond, was once purchased by William Larnach in the 1870’s where he eventually built his grand home (Castle) on a spot called Peggy’s Hill. Close by, Larnarch also established a substantial farm with a farmhouse overlooking a farmyard that featured an archway entrance, cow byre, stable and barn that created a square cobbled courtyard. The farmstead was a busy place, not only supplying goods to the Castle but it was home to a large selection of award winning livestock. After Larnach’s death in 1898 his son Douglas broke up and sold off large parts of the estate to local landowners.

Nowadays, all you’ll find remaining of the farmstead is the access road, the cow byre, a few stone walls and a chimney stack that was once part of the farm house. The stables were pulled down long ago while the barn collapsed after a landslip destroyed much of the foundations, the barn itself being dismantled sometime around 2018. If there’s one thing about the farmstead it is this, while the views from the former farmyard aren’t as impressive as up at the Castle, they are still fairly decent by anyone’s standard.