Every now and again, with the emphasis on seldom, we get something right in our driving directions. This happened at a critical time, which made it even sweeter. It conjured up a speech that sits in our minds from a time when real leadership existed. “This was their finest hour”, said Sir Winston Churchill. Not for a second would we compare our measly accomplishment with the ‘Battle of Britain’, although on second thoughts, it might be close.
Being on the South Island of New Zealand for a month and only passing the outskirts of Christchurch, we had not seen a city of size. Our bias will surely show but the older we get, perhaps we should say, as we mature, the open spaces and natural beauty are the places we seek. We mentioned in the last blog that we crossed Cook Strait by ferry together with our car. We drove off the dock and gazed at the city of Wellington, which is not big by American standards; nevertheless, it’s a fair-sized town. For reasons still unknown, we had only researched hiking areas in the region but not accommodation. We drove out the terminal, faced with our first decision. Do we turn left or right? “Where are we going?” asked our editor. ‘We don’t know,’ we replied. “Then it matters not which way you turn, does it?” Such are the complications that arise in our travels and life. We are not even going to mention 'you know whose' smart mouth.
What now? Based on the lack of success of our business activities over the last couple of months, the appropriate decision would be to ‘sleep in the car’. However, as it is our fault, why should our editor suffer? Indeed, why? The answer—the MacDonald option. We drove left and came upon a fast food establishment with the Scottish name within ten minutes. We jumped out the car, ordered our usual, which is coffee, tea and a coke, if one of us has been a ‘good boy’. At a time like that, seeking a place to sleep, who would be thinking about drinking? Perhaps, not such a far-fetched thought. We are not always as stupid as we look. MacDonald offers internet access. Fire up the laptop, down the drinks, search for accommodation, maps and directions. “How about Lower Hutt”? Asked our sweet editor. “Haven’t we had enough of camping in those huts,” we replied, rather surprised at her suggestion. “No, silly, Lower Hutt is a city next to Wellington." Aha!
We find ourselves in a comfortable motel in Lower Hutt, close to hiking trails, and to top it all, complete with a washer and dryer. Wonderful. Life couldn’t be sweeter.
Today’s hike, in the mountains overlooking Upper Hutt, was wonderful, too. Clearly, New Zealanders are running out of names for the numerous mountains that populate these islands. We gained 2,900 feet elevation as we reached the summit of Mount Climie, in 12 kilometers return. How’s that for a name. It’s not even Maori…we think. The climb was unrelenting as we headed straight up from start to finish. Thereafter, we proceeded along the ridge despite the wind and took in some of the unlimited beauty. Atop this mountain, sit at least five towers and antennae. Other than that, the whole area is unspoiled. There are views of the town, the bay and many mountains that run ‘thickly’ across the region. It is truly a beautiful place, wind and all.
We are looking forward to the holy rest-day; we are a little tired physically, although mentally uplifted. We were a little surprised at our editor’s reply when we asked what she was searching for on 'EBAY'. “I’ve tried ‘Craig’s List’ already and have had no luck so far.”
‘What are you seeking?’ We asked, again.
“After the run down Mount Fyffe in the rain, I need a new pair of knees.”
And she thinks we’re strange.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
No comments:
Post a Comment