Last days in Auckland

Auckland is a busy place, teeming with pedestrians, tourists and students. I drive around looking for a parking lot, knowing there are lots but somehow I don't see any on the path I choose to follow. I did of course find one and after squeezing into it I went looking for the Art gallery. Suddenly there were parking lots all around! Right.
I meet Roo in the gallery after walking completely around the building looking for the entrance. The art on display is contemporary and, for me, pushes the definition of art way past the edge I understand. A large rectangle spread across the floor composed of the remains of a completely dismantled and burned car in 3x5 pieces. Perches suspended from the ceiling that when bumped squawk like a bird....
We go for tea and catch up on the adventures. I go walkabout looking for a cellphone repair. The consensus being I "should buy a new one". I get a haircut from a fellow who doesn't seem to understand what I want, or I don't explain it well. My first brush cut in many years, and most of the beard off look. Back up the hill to Victoria Park where folks are laying about, playing guitar and studying (?) The trees are immense, I attempt to capture their essence in a photo. I wander through the university surrounded by the vigor and possibilities of youth and education. I am feeling old and the busyness is wearing on me. I have had enough of the hustle and bustle and head back to the van...which is where, exactly?
Elke calls as I figure out where I am and we connect briefly.
Back at Liz and Fraser's, I prepare to sell back the van, clean it up and empty everything out. Somehow I need to assimilate or discard these precious items. I saved almost every receipt and tourist brochure I received. I go through it all whittling the pile down to the most pertinent.
I arrange to bring the van back and thankfully it starts easily every time the fellow starts it. Fraser waits as we go on a "test drive" nervously biting his nails waiting for the final verdict. We visit a panel beater (auto repair shop) where the bump on the back bumper is assessed at $400 and taken off the resale price. I am glad to be free of it, knowing I would not do it that way again.
A visit to Waitakere the next day and a chance to use my camera with Fraser's tutelage. We collect images in the interpretive centre, of the native forest, massive tree fern fronds, and occasionally mushrooms. Stop for meat pies and visit a gift shop. I am feeling antsy, impatient and sad. I love this place!
I finally arrange to visit Earthsong the Co-housing community. Fraser and I drive north first and walk the beach, taking pictures of course. Then south and west to Swanson out Waitakere way to Earthsong. Helen, who I met at the Heart Politic gathering takes me around to see the buildings, the community house and then feeds me lunch on the deck. Each residence has their own garden space, there are orchards, nut trees and community gardens as well. These folks are all serious gardeners and the surplus ends up for sale at the nearby farmers market. Helen has a banana tree outside her front door! We talk about the structure of the place, residents, gardening and finally the governance. Christof and Susy also from the Heart Politic gathering, live here and offer to take me to Bethells Beach. Cool! Fraser had told me it was one of his favorites, unfortunately he was unable to take me there.
it is beautiful! We tramp across the black sand my camera grabbing images. Susy talks about cooking and the cave across the river. The full moon and low tide make for a bigger beach than Christof has ever seen. I have my shoes on so I explore the shelf in front of the basalt and creep around the corner on the sharp edges taking pictures of green lipped mussels and the rocks.
I am still amazed at the starkness and fresh feeling of the lava, the geology. how the land seems so alive and active, pieces breaking off, edges everywhere. Another piece of the permaculture puzzle falls into place.
After a nice dinner Christof drives me to the train, one of the reasons these folks chose to build here. A quiet and relaxed hour later I am downtown where due to a lack of street signs, spend a few panicked minutes determining where to catch the bus. Auckland has at least three bus systems going in three directions. An hour later I'm sharing my adventures over tea with Liz and Fraser.
The morning arrives, I have spent much time packing all my treasures into my suitcase and the chilly bin: books, clothing, mead, shells, honey and a 3.2K lava rock for the sweat lodge. All the feathers I found, the wings of the hawk, I place lovingly into an envelope to mail to myself. However when I declare what is inside for customs I cannot lie, I say it is an "unassembled fan" (!) then "roadkill feathers". Apparently "plumage" is not permitted to leave the country. I tell Fraser I figure I am doing my bit to support the NZ economy. I hope it will arrive and let go of the outcome. As I write this three weeks later I am quite sure I know the outcome of that envelope.
Liz takes me to the airport, we have a bit of an adventure finding it as the roads are altered from the last time she drove there. Fraser at the hospital having a procedure which turns out well. I hang out, read, look at people, magazines, more people, wait till time to load. Then the moment when I walk in and sit down. Watch 5 movies drink wine and eat the onboard dinner. The woman in front of me tilts back and it is like she is in my lap. In Vancouver I declare my honey so I am obliged to check in with Ag Can Customs. No problem. No one even looks in my bags! I stand in line again to go through yet another security check, have time for a quick pee and step outside to board the plane to Victoria. Immediately the air hits me. It smells and tastes like home.

Auckland, Men's work

Lucky for me Fraser and Liz are happy to have me stay with them. An oasis in this urban megatropolis. I stop moving and sleep a quiet sleep, warm and cozy. Then prepare myself for the Essentially Men weekend. I am nervous when the van won't start, wearing the battery down I get impatient. I maintain my cool, Fraser tows me up the driveway and I jump it. I find myself on a road I traveled when I was last here looking for the way south. I park on a slope as the fellow next to me grabs a quick smoke before heading inside. We file in, faces mostly masked in silence making small talk, taking our seats pressed together in front of the window. "Did you lock your car?" someone asks. I wonder, will it be broken into? What kind of neighbourhood is this?
The staff men emerge, disappear and re-emerge from the back room. Finally everyone it seems, has arrived (!) and the intro begins... Another man appears at the locked door.
We listen politely then follow the instructions, eyes closed, trusting the process. There is noise, sensory stimulation and finally drumming. We listen, we talk together one on one, meeting each other as strangers. We dance, we sing, we have tea and listen some more. I feel a bond of some kind with a couple of men. It is late when we depart. I wonder where this is taking me. I park so I can jumpstart the van if need be.
It starts.
We are expected to bring food for lunch and dinner so I grab some typical fare from the local New World and drop it in the kitchen. We are all here but one. We connect again in diads and tell stories of our lives. Dad figures big in this, we sing again and massage shoulders standing. Break for tea and tell more stories. The men leading the process are dedicated and committed with passion and compassion. There is something about this that gives me pause for thought. I call it warrior lite in my head but that doesn't describe it. It is a respectful, thorough exploration of being male in New Zealand. I speak to my perceived contradiction around rugby and boxing and the non aggressive, non violence we are as men expected to model. Later I get the connection to Lover Archetype which gives me big pause for thought around Warrior.
I want to connect with one man especially. He smokes, so at the break I sit outside to listen and add what seems appropriate. Like a joke or two! I am so aware of my difference, my Canadianism. I try to be wise and humble, when I tell them I am there to observe, to learn, to understand the differences and similarities because I want to have an impact on the way men proceed in the world. How I/we relate to children and partners and to address the domestic violence that plagues our societies. I am wearing my Dads Make A Difference T-shirt. On the back it says "When you follow the path of your father, you learn to walk like him" Some men pat me on the back, commenting.
The meals are feasts. Everyone has brought more than enough, I stuff myself on food I seldom sample. Sunday I buy blueberries and a long sausage roll.
Stories, diads and an exploration of mom. I'm looking deeply at my relationship with the feminine. Stunned at how much is there ("hello! are you paying attention?") In my face, I experience major confusion. I resolve to reconnect with my therapist... and review just how much I have spent getting here, being here what has brought me here. Please, please, lets NOT make it about the money.
The change in men's faces is remarkable as we wind up that evening. I feel a closeness and a distance. I am after all, an outsider. Rex the creator of the weekend arrives and we talk during dinner. Amazing how articulate I can be when I have someone to speak with who is similarly focused. What I get is the importance of an intiation experience that needs to reflect the community values. Not static or rigid, evolving with the local culture, satisfying the desires and needs of the men to pass on important understandings of community beliefs, ritual and morality. What I see as the antidote actually to a generic society that devalues and diminishes the importance of emotional expression and connection. A model of intimacy that enhances and encourages friendship, tolerance and support.
We meet again the following Tuesday, I am happy to see so many attending, sad I am unwilling to be there, my choice to go home.
I am still processing the weekend days later.
Somehow I left my cup behind, it is nowhere to be found. Another bit of me stays here.

Wellington, Taupo and Auckland

Parking in the city has never been much fun for me. I take the first available spot hoping I am close to the camera shop. As it turns out I am, not the one I had intended to visit but it will do. The bad news is another example of planned obsolescence, fixing it involves replacing the lens which, you guessed it, costs close enough to replacing the camera as to be.... I bite the bullet, I want a decent camera, I love taking pictures.
Now to find Kim, she is getting her hair done and will be ready this afternoon. I park at the New World Grocery store, buy some fruit and cheese and wander around, to the library (!) then down the streets among the throngs looking for the Turkish Kabob place again. On one corner is a Sadhu, a fellow dressed in , well it looks like nothing, a string around his waist hiding his privates under a scrap of cloth, presumably begging. He has a wild look about him and people are not looking generally. I do see someone snapping a photo, those tourists, honestly!
Up Taranacki street, which seems to get narrower and narrower. Kim has been staying with someone from Couchsurf.com and has a connection with someone else who will be storing some of her stuff while she travels north. It takes a while to find the place, perched up above Island Bay. What a view! We watch the ferry cruising towards the port, waves crashing against the rocks, the traffic on the road below and I see houses I noticed on my journey around the peninsulas.
Slowly make our way out of town, not sure which way to go, I head west then cut across to the Hutt Valley over an amazing road. Great vistas and switchbacks, climbing up and over a mountain pass. We stop for chai in Upper Hutt, the locals eyeing us with curiosity ( I hope) Then continue east now through Featherstone and Tauherenikau then turning north again at Greytown.
I spot a sign indicating a gorge and we are off another gravel road adventure through farmland and isolation to alonely spot where people come to jump off the cliff. The gate is locked so I climb over peering down to the water below. It is a straight drop. we follow a path down, Kim sits beside the river. I walk upstream taking pictures trying out my new toy, the water is cold, cold enough to overcome my inclination to jump in, it is soo inviting.
We collect twigs and branches for a fire, find a chunk of pine and make popcorn in my tiny pot. Sit by the fire late into the night talking about life, love and everything in between. The stars are magnificent, we even see one stream across before going to sleep. Kim wanted to sleep outside, her yoga mat not enough insulation we shared my mattress (chastely of course) and were awakened in the night by lashing rain pounding on the van, and unfortunately leaking in the side door.
As we drove out in the morning the side mirror fell off. The nearest town Carterton, had no wreckers and the message I got was no chance of replacement... Availed ourselves of the library to catch up on the endless email and continued north towards Taupo. I was more interested in a zigag route so at Pahiatu we went west towards Palmerston North then Ashurst onto Colyton Rd and north to Vinegar Hill rejoining #1 Highway. Stopped in Taihape the Gumboot throwing capitol of NZ. The major event takes place March 20, damn! Going to miss that one.
Then into the NZ desert at 1074 metres above sea level, a military training ground with heather in bloom at the side of the road and what appears to be miles and miles of scrub and not much else.
Taupo on Lake Taupo is a tourist town par excellence. All the possibilities exist here, any kind of thrill seeking will be satisfied. We elected to camp at a site with mineral springs and had a good soak before dinner and then bed. It was cold, real cold. Kim took the blanket and camped on the couch in the kitchen while I froze my ass off in the van. It wasn't till I had been in the springs again the next morning 3 hours after getting up that I finally got warm. Definitely a summer bag, there was frost on the ground till 9.
Not impressed with the library in Taupo, no WiFi and one needs to pay/join the library/become a resident to use the computers. They handed us a list of local establishments with WiFi and off we went. Kim bought a bus ticket and headed off to Napier/Hastings to the Steiner college and I went to visit Haku Falls. What a torrent that is! A massive amount of water churning through a narrow gorge out of Lake Taupo it flows north just south of Auckland the longest river in NZ. Jet boats racing up as close as possible to the maelstrom then speeding away down river for whatever they charge the thrill seekers.
Just up the road Craters of The Moon, a no brainer for this guy, $6 and a good walkabout 45 min.+ Steaming holes, sunken fumaroles etc. Lots of fun! Lots of pictures!
That being my break from driving I then drove straight through to Auckland.

Return to Wellington

Morning comes with an amazing sky. I am facing east across the water, the colour creeps up into reds and orange brightening the day considerably. After breakfast I struggle with the starter, turning the key over and over. Roll the van forward then back. I am scared I will run the battery down, and miss the ferry. It starts.
The road to Picton has a warning sign; not suitable for vehicles towing trailers, 25Km of gravel and watch out for logging trucks. Hmm sounds like home to me. Starts out paved with the mandatory switchbacks and soon degrades(?) to gravel. I come around one hairpin and the dirt/dust is so deep my wheels are spinning. Back up and take a run at it. As I descend into a valley I see ahead some dust, and a loaded logging truck hauls ass around the corner in front of me. The logs are likely Gum or Eucalyptus and about 18-24" diameter all about 16' long. Makes the turns easier I guess.
Stunning views coming up! Down into Robin Hood Bay the view from up high certainly enhances the look of surf on a flawless beach, mostly reserve here administered by DOC. Up and over around through great expanses of logging slash then native bush and pines with views of the islands and peninsula off to the right. Down again and briefly back onto pavement as the road touches down at sea level in each little bay; Ocean, Kakapo and Coles. Then I begin to see houses, construction, and massive residences perched on the cliff-sides in Whatamango Bay, many of which are for sale...! anyone interested? Talk about a retreat from the madding crowd. This is the place. No surf on these beaches, the peninsula moderates the waves well creating a very gentle lapping on the beach, at least in this weather. Just over the hill hairpin turns not withstanding, civilization! Port Underwood, Waikawa and Picton, gateway to the south and north depending on your perspective or needs.
At the library I immerse myself in writing, reading emails and eventually skyping Elke. I step outside to speak with her. The library is full of travelers like me connecting via the wifi.
Looking at the time I realize I need to head off to the ferry. On the van my first parking ticket. Oh well. At the terminal it is all good, I get my ticket and line up. A text from Kim, she wants to travel North with me. We will meet up tomorrow.
This ferry is smaller than the other, less people, not so crowded. I spend the entire voyage plugged in deleting old emails (after reading them, of course!) My phone rings , everyone looks. It is a very pathetic sounding ring, hard to describe. The phone dies before I can answer it. Do I have this affect on technology often, or always?
We arrive, disembark and I take a right when I shoulda went left.....I take the first opportunity to turn left heading towards Ngaio, trusting my instincts I go up and up, around and YES, Karori this way. I stop to consult my address's, look up and there is the road! Ross and Sally still at work, they arrive half an hour later. Ross takes me on a tour, Makara Hill where the big gun was in the second world war. Never fired in anger, (broke windows in a test) It ended up sold to Japan for scrap. Then downtown to see the parliament buildings and the third largest wooden building in the world. A government office. I love this architecture. I fill Ross in on my travels and the family history since he worked with Clive back in the 70's. We visit the reserve with a possum proof fence stretching for miles across the mountain.Wonderfully the birds are thriving due to the lack of predators. As things progress they are able to bring them back from the isolated islands they have been living on.
Then dinner with Sally who worked with Wanda and more family stories, theirs and mine.
A shower, laundry and I am set! Camera store in the morning.

Oxford to Rarangi

I finally (what is it 2.5 months into this adventure?) figure out how to navigate by having the sun AHEAD of me when going north. This may explain why I have had to backtrack so frequently. My internal default direction finder expects the sun to be in the south. One more time and I get it. Driving is such a great meditation until the next stunning view appears around a corner. I must be getting jaded I only saw a few! Stop to pick some apples from some trees beside the road, a late Gravenstein and Cox's Orange Pippin. Yum! Passed a cob cottage in Amberley and thought about declaring my intention to go forward with a certification to become a Permaculture ..... practitioner? Whatever. I have some ideas and a desire to implement them.
And I want to acknowledge how truly inspiring you have been for me Brandy McPherson! How your dedication, commitment and perseverance in pursuing your vision has been a source of inspiration and modeling for me. I have much and huge gratitude for encouraging me to pursue this path. Thank you Brandy.
I have spoken to many people about OUR Ecovillage, encouraging folks to visit the website if not the physical location. New Zealand has had a community friendly climate and although some are successful there are challenges. I realized part way into the course at Tui that everything I have been interested in, studied, read about and practiced is part of the Permaculture reality. With my knowledge comes some wisdom and a desire to implement. I have a big vision of how that will eventually manifest, it needs more work, but I am excited about creating and collaborating to make it real.
Other trains of thought around men's weekends, initiation loyalty, commitment. It is all connected to the idea, the understanding of community. My excitement is palpable, these folks I am speaking with in communities all around get my enthusiasm and passion.
I stop in Cheviot and chat up some ladies selling homeknit hats, scarves and sweaters of Cheviot, Romney and Leicester wool. I cage some spun wool for my weaving and continue on. Take a side road down towards Gore Bay and the mouth of the Hurunui River. A great campsite there, my reconnoiter of the South Island keeps inspiring me to pursue Mike and Ikes Hike, Bike and Kayak the world company. The inaugural trip with the principle players, a co-operative ad/venture would be to discover what we need to provide for folks who come to visit Vancouver Island by experiencing what WE need when traveling. Who is interested? How am I going to finance this? got any ideas?
Kaikoura is a great spot to stop, I check out the beaches , shops and crayfish at the takeaways. Unbelievably (yah right!) I buy two books at a used bookstore (open on Sunday? amazing) and wrestle with buying stuff for all my kids and best friends and close acquaintances deciding in the end ( I hope) you will just be glad to have me back home and with lots of pictures. I did buy something for myself though...
The road along the coast here is spectacular, huge crashing waves against the rough boulders strew about the beach, layered headlands jutting into the Pacific. The railroad hugs the coastline here too, making it impossible to access the beach (with a vehicle) in places. Around a corner and I see three tunnels and a cave on the beach. More tunnels as I snake back and forth along this wild coastline. The spray is creating a mist, the tide is full.
I pick up a hitchhiker, Eric from New Mexico who works "on the ice" cooking for upwards of 11000 at the American Base in Antarctica. Flights home and back are free and the time in between he explores, traveling mostly it seems in NZ. He was off to visit some folks near Dashwood at the Oak tree Cob Cottage. I got to visit briefly too, a 100+ year old cottage being renovated on 5 acres of well kept grounds surrounded by vineyards. At the moment some are draped with hats, pants or full body suits to keep out the birds although some are bare and employ guns, warning signs at the corners. I managed to sample a few varieties, by reaching under and helping myself. Crossed the Redwood Pass 197M nestled into the yellow brown rounded hills of dried out pasture, eroded cliffs with hoodoo like arroyos right up against the switchbacking road. My lack of camera may be an asset to my writing eh? or not.
Blew through Blenheim and parked near the ocean at Rarangi. Watched an amazing red sunset and spoke on the phone with Bill from Christchurch who I was meant to stay with. He is off to China leading a garden tour at Easter. Then texted some Permaculture friends and wrote into the night. Picton is just around the corner...

Christchurch

It was noisy in the morning. The gravel pit across the river was in full operation at 7 am with trucks loading up. I was cold. I didn't want to emerge from my cocoon of sleeping bag and duvet but of course nature calls. Ate some breakfast and then drove where the sun was shining to evaporate the condensation and do my writing.
Found another library but not open so did some writing over a chai in a local cafe. Turned out I shoulda gone online too, no wifi at the library, "try the coffee shop across the way" So back to South library in Cashmere. There I contacted a fellow at MensTrust, and when I got there found a number of men's and women's organizations all under one roof. Gordon and I had a good chat, I collected some pamphlets and flyers with info on the various possibilities for men's support. Unfortunately funding is drying up here too. Gordon talks about the connections and working relationships between men and women in the domestic violence field. How supportive some women's organizations are/were in creating support networks. He tells me a warrior brother lives in his community and that I am welcome to come to stay the night. Serendipity! Robina had told us about this community- Heartwood, and here I am! There are a few residences here, two official houses. One is a large brick mansion, Chippenham one of the oldest in Christchurch built in 1860. Lots of gardens, a few fruit trees and many buildings. I am entertained by Dave who is the historian and has lived here the longest. Unfortunately I miss about a third of what he is saying, he is listening to some tapes talking nonstop and making dinner. Ursula from France originally and Sheena an Australian architecture student join us. Also connect with John a fellow warrior who tells me about the other part of the community, land wise out in Oxford.
The Gypsy Fair is in town so in the morning I arrange to drive Dave to work nearby. Unfortunately the van has other ideas and refuses to start. We push it out onto the street and the battery dies. Dave borrows a car (he is now going to be late) And I look up repair places in the phonebook. John and Thomas come out and push me down the street. It starts and I head off to not finding the fair. Go to library (this pattern keeps emerging!) where I research possible camera repair places and Skype with Elke, Nicolette does a cameo appearance. Load some photos, write, then back downtown. Camera guy tells me it is an easy fix but I will need to get it done on Monday or Tuesday in Wellington...Locates the gypsy fair and off I am again. House trucks galore, imported cottons and the usual stuff. Some locally made handicrafts, leatherwork and the kids perform on stilts and with flaming batons (not at the same time) a couple of fortune tellers, Madame Feather and pony rides. I move on after fingering a few items and choosing not to buy. Head back to Heartwood having decided to visit the farm-Cricklegrass. Dave calls and sets it up. Drive the longest straight road in NZ to get there. 18miles. He described it as ramshackle, oh yeah.
Old buildings, neglected gardens and orchards, chooks and a milking cow. Paul makes me welcome. Certainly work is being done; gardening, milking the cow plus there are 5 kids here. Two young boys are target practicing with pellet rifles in the scrub. I do an explore and meet Briar, mother of two of the girls, living in her bus on the edge of the property. From Vancouver originally we talk awhile. She doesn't seem to mix much with the folks in the farmhouse although her eldest daughter spends most of her time there.
I was invited for dinner so bring my Monkey Wizard Stout from Motueka and share with Paul, Paul and Louis wwoofers from England and France respectively. I wash up after when eldest son goes to town to hang out with his mates, Paul returns with ice cream, scrumpie and more beer.
Mother Meghan, not well, emerges later and helps me get online. The evenings entertainment a Mike Meyers movie with a cameo by Deepak Chopra.
They offer me a bed, great offer but mossies and leg cramps plague me.
In the morning a red sky, I do my writing. Eldest daughter off to work at hospital, Madeline and I eat breakfast together. I call the ferry, work out the miscommunication and Meghan shows me some books. They are off to an auction, heritage animals, chooks and cattle in Christchurch. I say my goodbyes and promise to keep in touch.

Pleasant Point to Christchurch

After Fleurs, I drove north to Omaru, Timaru and then inland to visit an old school friend of Jasper's (Geoff). Stan was as happy to see me as I was to see him. We started talking and it never stopped till we went to bed. Stan was a surveyor and knows boundaries and edges well. Also a Quaker and renovating the cottage he is living in for his daughter who lives in Washington DC. The cottage has lots of light streaming in, a very low ceiling in one spot, but a very long bath.
Watched Rowan Atkinson make a fool of himself and then called Scotland. Geofsper was also happy to hear from us, under the threat of evacuation due to mudslides, he expressed some concern for his health. I hope to visit, Stan wants HIM to come visit New Zealand.
In the morning conversation continues as we walk the dog around the reserve and Golf Course. I suggest a road trip to Lake Pukaki to view Mt Cook. Stan is up for it so off we go. We sit by Lake Tekapo eating takeaway lunch beside a stone church regarding tourists form all over visiting the site. The water is a remarkable blue, silty from glacier. More birds flapping feathers at the side of the road.
The view of Mt Cook was worth the drive. Stan hasn't seen it years, it is so often shrouded in cloud. We both take more pictures than necessary, then cruise along beside the canal. We drive up to the Mt John Observatory. The wind is howling, the view magnificent and Stan buys me a Chai while he talks up the star expert from the university. I write a postcard, and wonder if I will arrive first. Unlikely I have three more weeks.
Knowing now a little about me Stan takes the map and we drive through Beautiful Valley, past hanging Rock Bridge arriving at some overhanging limestone rock formations and Maori Rock Painting. They are well protected with a substantial fence. Eroded and faint they are, nevertheless there to be seen.
Another great dinner and we go for a dog walk up through the pines to the cemetery. Later we explore some word meanings and I deal with my dead bird, discovering the difference between Boric acid and borax. Another late night of deep conversation and when morning comes I am antsy to move on.
Raining hard, I cannot wait to get off the main highway away from the transports and the speed pressure. I take a road to the left inland to head up toward Rakaia Gorge and see another, Waihi Gorge! I follow the camper ahead of me to a very attractive spot, take a few pictures and continue on my way to Geraldine where I find another sweet bell, some chocolate and a place to mail my postcard.
Continuing on from there I eventually arrive at the major crossing of the Waikariri River Rakaia Gorge, Stan had recommended this road as being more interesting, with less traffic. I pull off to take some pictures and a huge tractor arrives to cross the bridge.
Then straight on to Christchurch. I ask some fellows in the car next to me at a light "where's the nearest library?" not far at all. However their wi fi is down and within minutes the power fails on the computers. They send me to another library with good parking. It is clear across town, I find it and get some writing done. No one answers my calls or emails so I look at the map and locate a likely spot. I manage to get there before they lock the gate (as do some folks in a pickup or UT as they call them here, who as they drive by fire off a gun...) Other than that, a quiet night by the river.