Welcome to Autumn 2022 in NZ |
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You probably know that authors put their writing aside from time to time, leaving it alone, letting the words settle onto the page. The passing of time gives distance between the words and the wordsmith, creating an opportunity for more critical appraisal with renewed vigour at a later stage. The past few weeks have been just that for me, not that it was intended or needed, but rather this little household of two occupants needed to reconnect with the wider family out of town – as Aucklanders we had been in lock-down too long.
So Nick and I hired a seven metre long Mercedes-Benz motorhome. |
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First night of the road trip in Cambridge Top 10 Holiday Park |
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And we packed a small bag of clothing, plus essential food items, first aid kit, sleeping bags and pillows and set off on a road trip of 3,000+ kilometres, with another 300,000 steps on foot through man-made forests, windswept coastlines and quaint old towns – we’re keen walkers – as we headed south through the centre of the North Island, stopping in Rotorua, Paekakariki, across Cook Strait, and down the east coast of the South Island. |
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Boiling hot pools in Rotorua |
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Maria, freezing, on the top deck of the Bluebridge ferry |
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We intended to share the driving but it quickly became obvious I wasn’t capable of hurtling down the motorway at 90km/hr in such a big vehicle, so I saw the country from the passenger seat and gave a running commentary on autumn leaves and the number of men working roadside, plus the make and model of their diggers and rollers. There was a lot to share… |
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On the way to Hanmer Springs, Canterbury |
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We’ve only just returned home and haven’t had time to get back into everyday life, so we’re in that nice space where the past few weeks are still fresh in our mind, as if we’re still caught up in it all.
Although it was a road trip to see family, it was a chance to travel through time, to visit museums, learn stories of early pioneers, and behold extraordinary natural beauty. |
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But, perhaps, the greatest highlight was finding the valley of the Moa, a large flightless bird, much like an ostrich. We’d heard from a reliable source that Maori rock drawings and Moa bones had been found in an area near Geraldine which is 140km southwest of Christchurch in the South Island, close to Fairlie, which is a further 45km west. Enquiries at The General Store, the one and only store in a village called Cave, provided no answers – neither the girl behind the counter, a young thing, nor the only customer, an elderly gentleman in cheese-cutter, tweed jacket and walking boots had ever heard of any caves in the area, let alone cave drawings, so we googled endlessly without success, not helped by poor reception, until we gave up, despite the name Cave screaming some sort of message that couldn’t possibly be misunderstood.
But a phone call to family informed us we’d been given strict instructions to stay away all day, till dinnertime, as the family we were visiting had just moved house, and the lady of the manor was extremely busy cleaning and titivating, and she didn’t want help and didn’t want an audience. So the Sunday afternoon drive continued long into the day, and we amused ourselves exploring. |
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Remembering our fallen soldiers |
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And somehow, in all the action, nonsense, gaiety and romanticising of the Sunday drive, the car hurtled down narrow country roads that turned to single lanes and unsealed paths, and we saw a sign, yes, a sign, a real sign with two telling words: Moa Lane.
Well! You can imagine the level of excitement as the intrepid explorers pushed on, until there was no more road to travel. And, there, the grass shone bright and green, the valley deep and mysterious, hanging in rocks huge and ancient. Another sign, in a farmer’s paddock, permitted entry, so we climbed the stile and wandered in. |
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Not immediately obvious, not visible from afar, but elevated and hidden, silent and elusive, the caves are real. |
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The artwork is apparent, but only to those who can take the time to pause and dream – note the figure of a person close to the bird-like shape. |
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Possibly, five hundred years ago, Moa (now extinct) walked this valley, standing twelve feet tall (bones have been found here) and Maori hid in these limestone caves, built fires, ate Moa (perhaps too many), discovered charcoal, drew images, created pictures, left a record, and shared their stories.
I hope I never forget the feeling as we paused and wondered…
And yes, I did bake another Christmas cake to take long for the ride to keep the ardent travellers nourished and energised. |
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And this time I found all the ingredients in the supermarket, including the currants which hadn’t made it into the mixing bowl last Christmas. If you want the recipe, please check the previous newsletter.
But now, back at home, I’m going to move my desk and books from the cool summer room downstairs to the warm winter room upstairs. Summer’s over in the Southern Hemisphere. We had a cool 2degC in the South Island one night, with a dusting of snow on the highest peaks. |
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Looking across Lake Pukaki to Mt Cook and the Southern Alps |
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Inside the motorhome it was only 6degC – ugh. But Auckland is a lot warmer than down south, and today the sun is shining, perfect for drying more of the holiday washing. I do love washing, especially hand-washing – it’s an excuse to play with water and organise my thoughts.
Anyway, happy travels everyone!
Maria |
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Thanks for reading up to here. My next newsletter will be coming to you sometime later this year. Do let me know if you have any problems reading this newsletter.
And for more info go to mariahallwriter.com |
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