I was in Bluff. The last time I was standing at the southern tip of the country, it was a bracing 5 degrees. That day, the weather had been miserable. The rain was heavy, a southerly roared across Foveaux Strait and inland somewhere it was snowing. On this occasion, the weather was a more agreeable 18 degrees. A few wispy clouds hung in the sky while a gentle, cool ocean breeze drifted in from somewhere beyond. This was Bluff-Stirling Point at its absolute best. The small car park was full to overflowing and while some had gotten creative with their parking, others were applying the wait and hover method, while I, striking a moment of good fortune, simply guided gracefully into a spot that appeared in front of me like the parting of the Red Sea. Pleased with my luck, I set off along a walking track. There was a skip in my step and a whistle on my lips.
While in the North Island I did something rather foolish. I drove through Lower Hutt on Christmas Eve! What I was thinking, I really don’t know! I had been at the Queens Gate Mall where among other things, I went for a pee and deliberately walked against the flow of shoppers for some festive merriment. The real chaos hit when I left—traffic was horrendous! The road layout had clearly been designed by someone with an obsession for roundabouts. I’ve never seen so many in one place outside of a small English village. I drove through five within 700 meters! That’s right-Five! According to the New Zealand Transport Agency, ‘roundabouts simplify decision making for drivers’ and ‘help traffic flow’. That is, unless you drive through Lower Hutt in the afternoon on Christmas Eve. Then, they are just plain maddening and a tiny bit annoying.
I spent the night at the Rydges Hotel at Wellington Airport. At first, for reasons I can’t explain, I was sceptical about staying in such a place. I assumed it would be pricey and beyond my means – but I was wrong. It was reasonably priced, spotlessly clean, comfortable, cozy and with incredibly convenient access to the airport. Right beside the terminal! This proved most useful in the morning. I went from being in my pyjamas at 7:30 am to standing at the check-in kiosks at 7:55 am and I wasn’t even late, in a rush or making a panicking run across the airport in a vain attempt to get to a flight that was determined to leave without me (this has happened before).
That morning, I woke to bright sunshine streaming through the curtains. I made a coffee, read my book, made another coffee and at around 7:30 am decided with check-in closing at 8:15 am, I’d better get dressed. So, I completed my morning ablutions and minutes later presented myself at the check-in kiosks. I then proceeded through the necessary security checks and found a seat beside the allotted gate number, well rested and fresh as daisy. All without stepping outside, it was most civilised. I highly recommend it!
The warmth of the afternoon that had seemingly lingered forever, finally gave way late in the day. The clear blue skies had been engulfed by a dark, mood bank of cloud that had rolled in, bringing with it intense wind gusts that seemed intent on battering everything in its path. The once calm and peaceful blue ocean had been transformed into a brooding, angry mass that was beginning to churn and swell into the rocky shoreline of Lawyers Head and beyond to St Kilda beach. Far off in the distance the gathering clouds gave an ominous prediction of heavy rain. The once lovely summer’s day had suddenly changed, almost as if by the flick of a switch.
The light melted into the horizon, as evening hues spread across the calm, mirror-like ocean. I waded in the still water, the lingering warmth of the day remaining present for a few minutes. The shoreline curved gently, its silhouette darkness against the glow of the setting sun. Waves lapped lazily around my ankles, the world quieting with each fading ray.
The evening light set the ocean alight with warm hues of orange, yellow and blue as I walked through the dunes. Nearby the gentle swell rolling toward the shore. It was early summer, and the air, filled with salt, carried the last traces of the day’s warmth. Silhouetted hills loomed in the distance while sea grasses swayed lazily on the dunes. The quiet beauty of the sunset fading as the light dipped.
The ocean, alive and golden, shimmered like glass as the sun sank behind the hills above St Clair. I floated, suspended in water that glowed with the kind of warmth only early summer knows. Waves rolled gently to the shore, while clouds blushed a deep, contented orange. The world, caught between day and night and for a fleeting moment as the last of the daylight shimmered on the horizon.
Here in Dunedin it’s getting to that lovely time of year when the sun rises early, the days are warm and the light lasts long into the evening. At this time instead of the sun setting behind the hills, it dips below the horizon far down the coast. Meaning from beaches like St Kilda, you can sit on the beach deep into evening and watch it fade from sight with the hypnotic rhythms of breaking waves acting as a backdrop.
Back in October Dunedin had its wettest day in over a century. Three times the usual rainfall expected in October fell in the city in just 48 hours. 38 roads were closed including State Highways to the north and south of the city, communities were cut off and suburbs were flooded. A state of emergency was put in place and all over the region there were landslides and rivers bursting their banks.
… from a Small City. My daily musings from Ōtepoti to get you inspired. Read the blog, view the photos, embrace the creativity.
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Stirling Point in Bluff
Wellington Airport at night
