It’s Not What It Looks Like

Good Friday found us well rested and ready to take on the world. News from home about Storm Dave only made the stunning weather here all the more appreciated. I even felt that sun cream was needed and it was duly applied. This allowed me to have a wanderer around the gardens here. Strangely, I could not stay away from admiring the bountiful harvest on the avocado tree. There was just something about it.

I was taken away from my admiration and we headed into town for some provisions and breakfast. Ghost town. Everywhere was shut. Oh no. Woolworths, New World, Liquorland, all shut. Like Ireland in the 70s. We circled the town like a couple of burglars casing the joint until we found where all the cars were parked and two cafes that appeared to be feeding the masses.

It seems that a surcharge of 15% is applied to services such as restaurants on public holidays to help pay for additional staff costs. Most places just close.

We had breakfast, egg and bacon rolls essentially, that antipodean staple and then decided to take the pedestrian ferry across the harbour to check out the beaches over there. To say it is a short trip is giving it a scale that is really not warranted. Our payment by Mr Revolut had barely been authorised when we arrived. In a reassuringly retro way, our return ticket was two round plastic tokens.

Well the beaches over on the Maramaratotara Bay side were simply lovely and we spent a pleasant hour or so just taking it all in. On Flaxmill Beach I decided that it was time to bless this part of the Pacific with my feet again. Last time was Clovelly Beach in Sydney, remember. The water was lovely and a little time was spent dandering up and down. It was during this that Mrs Verno utilized the zoom on her phone to capture an unflattering image of yours truly. All I can say is nothing untoward is going on and we found a toilet soon after.

A few signs caught my eye on the return walk. One echoed one seen in Wellington and highlighted that we were in a major earthquake zone. Puts Storm Dave into perspective.

We boarded the Outlander on return across the Strait of Don’t Snooze or You’ll Miss it. I was feeling brave and thought we would take a short run to the north of the peninsula to Matarangi. The twists and turns of yesterday paled to nothing as we pirouetted our way at a snail’s pace up and then down to the coast again. Oh my god. Seriously taxing driving. But it was worth it as a whole new vista presented itself. Stunning.

Braving the return trip we made it back to base and a regenerative doze was undertaken before heading for tea. Choice was limited so we found ourselves in Smitty’s Sports Bar and Grill. What a find. A haunted for locals and tourists alike we arrived in the midst of a Wheel of Fortune event with food and beverage vouchers of moderate value up for grabs if your number was drawn. Excellent fun. This place had things you would never see back home. Multiple screens showing dog, horse and trotting racing as well as rugby league and union matches on multiple screens. There were electronic betting terminals (alongside a cash machine) and a special door to a mini casino at the back which appeared to be slot machine heavy. Not a coin drop to be seen. The food was great and very reasonable. However there was one traumatising element to it all. Upon placing your order you are given a buzzer with a number on an led display. This was the exact same device that had caused havoc way back in Singapore. Remember? Anyway things worked out and the food met with Mrs Verno’s approval. It was then back to base to plan our next day in Whitianga. A different chilled out vibe made even more chilled out by the closure of almost every shop but such is life.