NEW ZEALAND CAMPING 2013: DAY #3

Sunday April 21, 2013

Another good night’s sleep, although again it was difficult to get the heating quite right. Rab had turned the heating down for the night but the thermostat seemed not to work and did not kick in when the van cooled. I really only noticed when I got up in the early hours of the morning – at about 04.00 for a piddle and I put the heat back up so that we were both in a snug cabin when we finally stirred.

Breakfast at Omarama

A cup of coffee – using the Cappuccino Strong instant coffee we had bought in Akaroa, sweetened with the good brown  sugar from the same source and all was well with our world. It was a sunny morning and the camp site view we had of trees and a pond looked very pleasant. A substantial improvement on day #1. We were aiming to get across to Te Anau to meet up with Matt and family. It was only a little over 350 km/220 miles but we were told it could take over four hours driving because of the roads over passes and alongside the lakes.

 

I thought I should try my hand at emptying the toilet cartridge and the grey water tank, having no idea how often this should be done. I had viewed the training videos on line and tried to listen to our tutor when we picked up the vehicle, but….theory is one thing and practice another.

As I started up to drive over to the waste station I almost  did what we did from time to time at the old drive-in movies – drive off while still attached to the power pole. Fortunately I realised as I put the vehicle in gear and didn’t even move. Unplugged and having turned off the gas, I moved along……opened the trapdoor for the toilet cartridge and couldn’t get the darned thing out. Surely our tutor had just pulled it out? Well, yes she did, but she unlatched it first, as a passerby showed me. The unit felt very heavy and it took ages to empty and rinse and empty, yet we had barely used the toilet, preferring the comfort of the ablution block and I began to wonder if the vehicle had, perhaps not been adequately prepared for us.

This suspicion deepened when I emptied out the grey water tank which ran on and on for what seemed like fifteen or twenty minutes. We certainly hadn’t used all that water. Hmmm…..

Off we went with full fresh water tank and empty waste receptacles. As we headed out of town in a slight drizzle – the morning sun hadn’t lasted - towards the first of the passes I noticed an odd thing . all along the side of the road on the verge there were cairns of stones – there were ;plenty of stones about to build cairns. Some were small – only half a dozen stones; others were quite tall. But what were they doing there? Who built them and why? We couldn’t guess. (Googled this on our return. No really good explanation – just a bit of light-hearted nonsense apparently.)

 

As we topped Lindis Pass the sun came out again and we had our first glimpse of the fresh snow on the mountains. It looked for all the world like icing sugar sprinkled on a very large fruit loaf.  Although there was more green about, brown was still the predominant colour except where clumps of trees grew – usually in little dells or along the banks of a water course. They were glorious in their autumnal colours, shining gold with shades of orange and, every now and then a touch of red. The first large body of water we came to was Lake Hawea The road was indeed very winding and on our side was so narrow that there was no stopping which was a pity because the reflections in the water were marvellous to see, even in the quick glances I could take. I wondered if this was the Mirror Lake that I had heard about.

As we drove on we came to the area where small amounts of alluvial gold had been panned many years ago. There is a small tourist trap there where you can pan for gold – without much chance of finding any, I’d guess, although I did buy a small nugget there on a fishing trip. I liked it because it was the shape of a very small fish. The main attraction now was jet boat rides, which are very popular in New Zealand. They are terrifying as the boats skim at very high speed over shallow water, close to rock faces and over rapids – not for us. The water in the river was a curious colour, so Rab  told me – a deep translucent green.

Proceeding along the flat after the lakeside roads, we spotted what looked like a very nice fruit stall at a little spot called Cromwell. Well, actually it was the sign advertising fresh fruit ice cream that attracted Rab’s attention. I was gawping at the avenue of golden trees that stretched down the side of the road. We swung in there and were very glad we had done so. The quality and varieties of fruit, much of it grown in the adjacent orchard was splendid. There was a tasting table and the very pleasant young  girl introduced us to two varieties of stone fruit that had been developed in the orchard. One was a cross peach/nectarine and the other a cross nectarine/apricot. Both were tremendous, with the latter beating the former in the taste  stakes. We also tried a couple of their apples and landed up with enough fruit to last us until the end of the holiday – or so we thought. I also picked up a couple of bars of chocolate that appealed – dark chocolate with Kiwi Fruit. Turned out to be a very popular choice with one and all. And of course we each had an ice cream, which was a big mistake. The serving size was positively American and we could quite easily have shared one between us. Delicious though – berries for Rab, banana for me and we managed to deal with them before heading on.

Our lunctime spot on Lake Wakatipu

 To get to Te Anau we had another lakeside drive, this time along the banks of Lake Wakatipu, which is the large body of water on which Queenstown stands. It is a zig zag shape which on the map looks a bit like Harry Potter’s scar.

Lunch by the Lake

We were ready for a bite to eat at that stage, so I pulled in to one of the campsites down at the bottom of the lake. It would have been a grand place to stay, although there was no power or ablution block. We parked as close to the lake’s edge as we could and had a delightful meal. It was a simple one – just excellent local cheese and salami on crusty local bread followed by a bit of fruit. As I said to Rab it reminded me of a meal I had many years ago in the Seychelles with the man who became a lifelong friend – Lars Bengtsson. He and I simply picked up bread and cheese and a couple of beers and after driving around the island for a while found a spot and just sat under the palms, talking of this and that.

On we went after our break and found the Top 10 site where we had agreed to meet Matt. They had been there ahead of us, but had then gone on to do a tour of the glow-worm caves. We had hoped we might get there early enough to join them, but couldn’t make it. He had reserved adjoining sites so we duly parked – and I took the easier one on the basis that if he had been parking for a week, he had more expertise.

They duly  turned up and the grandgirls leapt out of their van to greet their beloved Gran, verbally tripping over each other to get their news out. Dani was directing Matt into the bay next to us but in all the excitement there was some confusion and Matt collected a boulder marker on the drive, denting a couple of the panels on his van. Fortunately he had a nil excess deal, so financially he was not put out although as he said on his FaceBook entry his ego was also dented.

Sharon and Karen ride off

The girls had been hiring pedal cars wherever these were on offer at campsites, so Matt and I went off with them alongside Lake Te Anau while Rab and Dani caught up with the news. The girls adopted different persona when they rode – Sharon and Karen, two housewives and mothers who spend a considerable time together at home – and kept up a constant chat, calling in the police on their ‘radios’ if they went off the pass, or roadside assistance if they got stuck. All in their version of an American accent. Such is the power of television. The views as we moved along the lakeside were, once again, simply marvellous as the sun set behind the mountains. Difficult to describe, but recorded thanks to our ever present cameras.

Sunset on Lake Te Anau

It was getting dark when we got back to the vans. Matt had picked up a menu from a local pizza shop who were happy to deliver to specific van sites. They had been recommended by the very pleasant people on the Reception desk and Matt suggested we order our meal from them. Seemed a  good idea and before too long we were all crowded around the table in our van having a great evening. The girls  found the fruit to be very tasty – especially the Golden Nuggets as the apricot/nectarines were called. Maybe the fruit will not last us until we leave after all!!

While we were waiting for the pizzas, the girls had to do their homework. They were missing a bit of school and the agreement was that they had to read every day and to keep a daily journal. I said to them that was good practice for future travelling. They read their entries for the day after they had completed them. Both were excellent, catching the essence of what they had done.

Rab and the girls - Caroline, Stephi and Dani

We had a couple of beers and a bit of wine to wash down the pizzas and had a hilarious evening, telling stories about the old days when Matt was a boy. the girls had heard most of them, but that didn’t stop them shrieking with laughter  at some of his mishaps.

A great evening – and one to remember.

NEW ZEALAND CAMPING 2013: DAY #2

Saturday April 20, 2013

It was a little chilly when we woke after what turned out to be a good night's sleep despite a couple of downpours that thundered on the van. I have always liked the sound of rain on a tin roof, and although I sleepily wondered how we would go if the storm continued, it was also somewhat comforting. We had turned the heater on when we had parked but had the heat a little high, so I turned it down, or so I thought, although ‘off’ might be more accurate. To add to the natural chill of sleeping in a metal box, I had opened the roof vents, because the heater was gas fired, to avoid both of us waking up dead from CO2 fumes. Rab soon got the heater going again - she was appointed to take charge of that operation and it turned out that the gas asphyxiation would not have been a problem because I had omitted to open the gas bottle when I set the van up - well, you can't remember everything, can you?  So how did the heating work??

Although the van had a toilet and shower, we soon realized that whilst we may have been able to balance on the absurdly small toilet, there was no way we could manage to shower, even if the water flowed, because it didn't when we tried it out. Oh! The water pump! Turn it on! Hey the water flows - at least enough for a top and tail wash. Actually getting into the combined toilet/shower is only achievable for me with very careful and exact movements. Bending my knees to bring my head below the lintel I have to step high over the threshold while slipping in sideways at a very precise angle - like posting a fat letter in a post-box.

Warm and washed we had a good breakfast of yoghurt and cereal, purchased by Rab last evening in Christchurch and after packing away sundry items we went for a stroll up to the office to check on sundry matters such as Internet and mobile phone access. It was quite a climb up to the office but it gave us some lovely views of the town and bay below.

Akaroa below

 

Rab boards the van - big step up

It was still misty, misty with slight drizzle every now and then. So we could not see the view in the glory that it must present on a clear sunny day. After buying some time on Internet and a local SIM card, we headed down town. We had not fully realized that extreme tidiness is a key for a successful vanning holiday. Everything must be in its place. Having an OCD partner would be an asset in the circumstances. Fortunately we are both tidy, so it wasn't too difficult to go that extra inch or so and secure all the loose items that had spread themselves around the van as we cornered and braked. Some of the rattles were more difficult to deal with, the final one being the baking tray in the oven which quietened down finally when we put a spare kitchen towel in the oven, with a mental not to take it out before turning the oven on.

Akaroa is a lovely little village with a French flavour. Pretty little cottages and shops and sitting right on the water. By the depth of the drains along the roadside they must get a fair bit of rain. It wasn't falling too heavily and Rab had a browse around some of the shops and picked up some more groceries for meals to come. There was a small fair on the green and for the first time in living memory Rab declined not to attend on the very sensible grounds that, with a limited number of pairs of shoes, trudging through the long wet grass would not be a good idea. So farewell Akaroa and onwards to Omarama. 

Akaroa from across the bay

The hills and turns of last night were less formidable today in daylight - there is no way out of Akaroa other than the way you went in - but of course there were magnificent views of lush green hills with patches of woods and darker green forests on their flanks. Shorn sheep - why shear them just before winter? - and fat cattle dotted the hillsides. One could not help but think of The Shire and Lord Of The Rings (or LOTR as the local parlance and guide books has it). At the top of one ridge sat an old pub, chimneys smoking, which could have been right out of the book. We could imagine how snug it would be in that lounge. Down in one of the valleys was Little River. Green sward and lovely trees sheltering the cottages, their leaves all turning autumnal colours. Most were light green, gold or orange and they appealed to me even more than the marvellous array of trees we had seen when 'leaf peeping' in New England. Rab disagreed, saying that the reds in the US trees added another dimension. Not for me so much - but that's what red colour-blindness does for you.

The other aspect of the countryside down there on the coastal plain is the presence of enormous hedges that shelter so many of the properties. These are garden hedges on steroids - fifteen or twenty meters high, almost as thick some of them, with a driveway tunnel led through the growth. As we went on our way, more and more hedges appeared. None of them on the scale of the ones on coastal properties, but still substantial. Some appeared to act as boundaries for properties, but others were free standing out in the fields. It was not too clear what their function was, although windbreaks seemed an obvious possibility, but they were all oriented at a variety of angles, were differing lengths and heights and I couldn't imagine any wind that could be diverted by this variety of breaks. It was only after we left Geraldine and headed  for McKenzie country that the hedges disappeared.

It was raining for most of the day, sometimes heavily, sometimes just that annoying splash that doesn’t really justify the use of the windscreen wipers. It was getting steadily colder and clearly the forecast snow was falling down to 1200 meters/3950 feet. On one pass the temperature was down to 4°C/39°F. The van was remarkably easy to drive. Excellent view of course as we sat high above the road with a large  windscreen and side windows. I was a bit concerned about cornering, feeling that there would be some kind of tilt, but there wasn’t, although I was careful to slow down for the corners. Reverse parking was probably the most difficult aspect because of the length of the vehicle and the change in the axis of the turn. No doubt this skill will be developed over time.

We stopped for a bite to eat at the little town of Geraldine, parked next to a green lawn with a small river running alongside. Simple bread and cheese sandwiches and a drink of juice out of the fridge suited us. And then we were on our way – to Fairlie and Omarama, or so we thought. I mentioned yesterday that road signs were in somewhat short supply in New Zealand. There are excellent warnings about corners. The safe speed is shown ahead of the actual corner so you can adjust your speed accordingly – the speed limit in New Zealand on the open road is 100 kph/62 mph. Every now and then, presumably to keep you on your toes and alert, a corner will have no warning but will be tighter than 100 kph. In such cases I fell back on my old habit of judging potential danger. If you can’t see the end of the corner, it may be tighter than you thought.

But although the corners were so well done, there were no distance or destination markers which are so common in most other countries where we have driven. So last night, heading down to Akaroa, initially the signs at major intersections showed that the road we were to take was the road that went to Timaru as well as Akaroa. At some stage, the road split since Timaru was down the  coast, but there was no indication that we were headed for Akaroa – and we had no idea how far we had to go because there were no signs.

So when we left Geraldine after lunch confident that we were on the correct road, it was something of a shock  to come to the main highway at Winchester with a sign to Christchurch to the left and Timaru to the right. There had been no indication that we had gone astray. It wasn’t a bad mistake – only half an hour to correct, but annoying. When we got back to Geraldine we realised we had missed the Fairlie turnoff concentrating on the driving and looking for a place to stop for lunch.

As we headed through what is known as McKenzie Country. This is where the sheep industry started in New Zealand – there are roughly 20 sheep for every person living in the country. The area is named in somewhat typical Antipodean fashion after a sheep thief back in the nineteenth century. The rain held off and the countryside changed dramatically. This area is in the rain shadow of the Southern Alps and is very dry and sere at the best of times, carpeted with tussock grass which does not green up like the rest of the pastures in NZ. New Zealand has been in the grips of a drought, so the countryside was drier than ever. The rivers we crossed were however running strongly, presumably from the rain that had been falling more heavily over the mountains.

Lake Tekapo with a glimpse of snow

We stopped off at Lake Tekapo in the early afternoon. We had spent a night there 21 years ago on our last joint visit to New Zealand. A small chapel on a promontory at the foot of the lake has a beautiful feature. The window behind the altar is not stained glass, but clear glass and on a good day the window frames Aoraki/Mount Cook  and the other magnificent snow clad mountains at the head of the lake. Unfortunately the chapel was closed, there were crowds of people and the mountains were coyly hiding in the clouds. It was 6°C and drizzling – a bit different from the sparkling day we had last time. But the statue recognising the part that Border Collies had played in the success of the development of the sheep industry was still there looking proudly towards the hinterland.

Onwards we went, heading for Omarama whose only claim to fame until recently was that it was at the cross road where the road from the  coast – Oamaru and Timaru – joined the road through to Queenstown. It is now part of the LORT circuit since some of the battle scenes were filmed around there. It wasn’t too difficult to find the campsite among the half dozen buildings in the town and since there were very few  visitors we secured a very nice spot near the ablution block. The power poles were a much more sensible height, I knew how to connect them and I remembered to turn the gas on full. I also filled the water tank, which seemed to take a great deal of filling considering how little water we had used.

Rab got the heater going and we ate Two Minute noodles for the first time in our lives! We had decided that while we would indeed eat meals in our mobile home, neither of us was going to go to a deal of trouble. There was a microwave and a kettle and we felt that using those two we’d get by without any problems. We were quite impressed by our noodle meal and could understand why they formed the staple diet of penurious students.

NEW ZEALAND CAMPING 2013: DAY #1

Friday April 19, 2013

OMG!! Another set of hairpin bends loomed up out of the darkness, spotted through the thrashing of the windscreen wipers as they battled to keep the glass clear. We should be in Akaroa by now, but seem to be climbing yet another pass? Are we on the right road? New Zealand roads do not carry a deal of information on them.

Not a very auspicious start to our latest adventure - a tour of New Zealand South Island in a camper van, a first for us. I had wanted to try a van for more years than I can remember - probably since I read Steinbeck's Travels With Charlie when I was in my teens. Rab never shared my enthusiasm on the grounds that when she took a holiday it was to get away from the day to day chores - not to make them more difficult.   Why leave all the conveniences of home for the inconveniences of a van? Friends sang the praises of travelling this way with enthusiasm. We even went to have a look at vans at a trade exhibition, but still no dice. 'Maybe some day ....' was the best I could get.

But.....it turned out that our son Matt had the same desire as I had but a more compliant wife. So he booked a van for a fortnight to see New Zealand South Island with the family.

"But won't you come too, Gran," begged Caroline, his daughter, "You could camp next to us and we could visit and I could even have a sleepover. Please..." Next thing I knew I was looking up costs of combining a seven day van tour with a long discussed visit to niece Nola on North Island. (We call her our niece although she is really a second cousin – we prefer to think of her as a niece. Seems nicer and closer somehow.)

And so it came to pass. On April 19 2013, we took off from Melbourne on Air New Zealand, heading for Christchurch. It was an early start to the day, leaving home at 06.00 for the 09.15 flight. Our neighbours came along with us - at least to the airport. They were heading across to Perth about the same time as we were leaving for NZ so it made sense to give them a lift. We left our car in long term undercover parking for the first time, since the cost will be a little under 50% of the return taxi fare.

No problems in checking in or with security. We had thought that security may have been tightened after the awful bomb blasts in Boston on Monday, but, if anything they seemed a little more casual - didn't even make me take off my shoes and belt, actions which were surely the most ridiculous impositions on travellers over the past few years. Rab and I shared a bagel and a cup of coffee and headed for the departure gate when our flight came up as Boarding. And then we waited, and waited...and the extreme patience I had shown so far started evaporating. I know things can go wrong, I know flights can be delayed for perfectly sound reasons, but why oh why can't the passengers be told what is going on? It's plain rude. We eventually started boarding, the seats I had booked (and paid an additional fare for) on the Emergency Aisle for the extra leg room didn't have any and our push back was delayed as was our take off. But off we went on a flight that was not too uncomfortable for me despite travelling Economy for the first time for years – thought I could handle three hours in a sardine tin.

All of the small delays got us to Christchurch about half an hour later than we had anticipated when making our bookings at Akaroa. But no worries, we were told, it is only about an hour's drive and sunset is sixish (someone suggested seven forgetting that Summer Time was a thing of the past), so you should be there before it gets dark.  Well, yes, provided you don't land late, get delayed by having to tell a Customs Officer about your medication - all medicines must be declared! - have to try to contact the Van folk to pick us up, wait around seemingly endlessly for your van and briefing, stop to pick up basic groceries. All of which led us to leave Christchurch at 16.55, not 15.45 as planned. And although the sun does set at about 18.00, it does not take 'about an hour' to get to Akaroa, not even in daylight with a low slung sports car, let alone in a vehicle that seems to be the size of a pantechnicon and feels rather unstable as darkness falls, as so called showers of rain pour down from the skies. The reason that even an expert driver could not meet that time limit is because there are multiple road works as well as the sinuous roads that snake their way up hill and down dale with many a 'Slippery When Wet' sign. We did it in a little over an hour and a half with poor Rab braking  furiously against her floorboard in an effort to avoid yet another accident on a blind corner.

Naturally we missed the unsigned turn off to the campsite because there wasn't one, so we found ourselves at 18.35 outside the restaurant where we had booked a table for 18.00, in anticipation of an early arrival at the campsite and a gentle stroll down the hill to stretch our legs. We apologised for our late arrival, explained our problem and asked directions to the site promising to return as soon as we could, if only because we were pretty hungry, having had nothing to eat since that shared bagel in Melbourne airport. Back we went, turning right up a steep road that seemed to climb forever and then at last we spotted the campsite light.

Our pantechnicon awaits us at the pub!

They were very pleasant and gave us a site near the ablution block where the light would make it easier for us to park and set up. We found the site and then headed back down the hill having realized that trying to scramble down a steep hill on foot in the dark was unlikely to end well.

The meal was delicious and helped us recover our equilibrium, or so we thought, but...that was before we tried to actually get set up on the site. Reversing a vehicle that is 7 meters long, 2 meters wide and 2.7 meters high takes a little getting used to and although Rab did her best to guide me, in the freezing drizzle, she didn't realize how often she and her hand gestures disappeared from view. But we managed in the end and I went to hook up the power. Unfortunately I did not have a six year old child with me because the height of the electricity terminal would have suited someone that size. So bending down with the rain trickling down my neck and lifting the protective lid with one hand I tried to plug my lead in. Not possible in the dark, I found. Fortunately I had the foresight to not only bring a small torch but I could also remember where I had packed it. So, with the torch in my mouth, lifting the lid, I managed to get the plug in. Hallelujah! Now all I had to do was plug the other end into the van....if only I could twist off the protective cover. Done at last! We have power and warmth and hot water. All that is left to do is make up the bed and collapse into it, tired out after a long day.

It turns out that making a bed for the first time in a van is not quite the same as at home. There is only room for one operator and everything has to be moved out of the immediate area initially. As I battled to slot the bits of wood and table which would form the base of the bed, two meters wide and about two meters long, Rab suggested that it might not be such a great idea, pondering how either of us would get in and out of the bed for any nocturnal activities. She suggested that we should sleep on the seats as they were, after removing the backrests.

Rab beds down

A little narrow, perhaps but about the same width as the bunks on Leo Lacus, the company boat on Lake Kariba where we had slept through many a night with no mishaps. So that was settled. The narrow beds were made up and precariously balanced on them we were soon fast asleep. 

What a start to the trip! But we were not downhearted -  we both felt that it could only get better. 

NZ 2013 - How Not To Run A Bed And Breakfast

We have recently returned from a lovely trip to New Zealand – journal to be posted shortly as soon as I catch up on my backlog of mail etc. Our last two nights were spent in a Bed and Breakfast establishment where the service wasn’t quite what we expected. I wrote this for a friend of ours who runs a beautiful Bed and Breakfast in The Constantia Stables, South Africa and has very high standards. She found it amusing and suggested that a wider audience might also. Incidentally, she and Rab met fifty years ago tomorrow when they were both young ladies sailing to England from South Africa.

We booked into the BnB near Cambridge on North Island, New Zealand, using the Internet. We chose it to be near to our niece Nola who we were visiting. It is situated in country New Zealand and has some lovely views. 

The email confirming our booking - and requesting payment in full in advance for the two nights we were to stay there - had indicated check in time was 2.00 pm. That suited us so after having coffee with Nola, we pitched up  with her and the family at 2.00 pm.

There was no sign of life at the homestead, built in 1909, so it is claimed. After ringing the bell and knocking on the door one of the party went around the back of the building and shortly after that a woman, who turned out to be the proprietor, came striding up the hill in gumboots, denims and a flannel shirt, her long blond hair giving every appearance of having been undone for many a day. She said she had been looking after one of her landlord's sick cows. "The poor beast couldn't stand so I gave her grass and water, until they came to take her to the vet.", she explained, "So I haven't made up your room yet."

She disappeared around the back of the building saying she would let us in the - locked - front door. And in due course she did that, disclosing a pleasant entrance and passage with an antique chair and some nice rugs on the pale carpeting. As we stepped across the threshold, she said, "Hope you haven't got any dirt on your shoes! I had the carpet shampooed last week. Perhaps you'd like to take your shoes off?" "No, we wouldn't," thought Rab and I, “Our shoes are clean.”, although Nola and her children, being younger and more biddable did as requested.

The dining room and lounge looked very nicely furnished in a somewhat old and tired look and had lovely views over the countryside. We were a little discon-certed to find there was only one bathroom with the toilet in it for the maximum of six guests. Not quite what we had expected, although on checking, this is stated on the website. Fortunately we were the only ones in residence so that did not present a problem. And, of course, Rab obeyed the instructions regarding the removal of her make- up while we were there.

As we thought we might be back late from our excursion to Hamilton Gardens with Nola and family we asked if our landlady would be there when we got back. She hemmed and hawed and wasn't sure as she had some shopping to do........Rab suggested she give us a key and she agreed to pass over the key to the screen door. We gained the impression it might be the only one - and said she'd leave the main door on the snib - whatever that meant.

When we got back, the bed had been made up. The room was very nice, the bed turned out to be very comfortable and the linen was crisp and clean. Our landlady appeared from her lair at the bottom of the passage to hand over the Rules Of The House and to enlarge on them by insisting that all plugs must be turned off at the walls to prevent the house catching fire. She said she would hate to see the building burn down because it was so old. A number of other thoughts crossed our minds. She also told us about the arrangements for breakfast. Essentially it was 'serve yourself'. And that was the last time we set eyes on her, although we did hear her later that night in a loud, long and animated conversation, possibly on Skype.

We tried to turn on the bedside lights before we went out as we knew we'd be back after dark and finally found, after moving the bed, that the wall plug had been turned off. Since we had no intention of shifting the bed when we got back after dinner, we broke all the rules and left the wall plug on. Our feeling was that as long as we weren't there when the house burned, we weren't too fussed.

Returning after dark we were surprised to see three or four calves in our headlights as we came up the drive. They seemed equally surprised and bounced off into the night. We slept well and there was a lovely misty morning when I woke up and went through to the dining room to make coffee for Rab.

There were a couple of surprises for me. One was the fact that three cows and a goat were inspecting our car in the driveway before moving on to browse on the roses. Apparently goats are very partial to roses.

The second surprise was to see how nicely the breakfast table had been laid when we were out. A sort of minimalist approach. I filled the kettle from the trickling tap in the bathroom basin and, after inspecting the coffee available for the plunger, which seemed that it might have been ground some time ago, and the instant coffee, which was a bit crusty, I decided to use our last two instant Cappuccino packs. Good decision I think.

The hot water in the bathroom did take the promised two or three minutes to come through and was very hot. The shower was something of a trickle but was OK. The Rules Of The House said we could use the soap and shampoo in the shower. We were glad we had our own soap though, as there was none in the bathroom - and that we didn't need the Dry Hair Shampoo which was empty. Presumably some previous guest suffered this affliction. And so to breakfast, always an important meal for us, providing the foundation for the day's activities. Less important for our hostess it seemed.

There were three jars of cereal on the nice oak sideboard. Not too sure how long they had been there, as the last entry in the guestbook was two months old. But they were not too soggy or stale. There was also a spoonful of sugar left in the bottom of the very fine china sugar bowl. The milk was in the fridge in the corner of the room, delicately served in its original 2 litre container. Although there was not much left in the bottle, there was enough for our cereal. The cereal didn't taste any different with the silver spoons, but maybe just a bit more sugar?

Toast would be nice we thought - and we found there were three or four slices of bread of two different sorts in the freezer. The old toaster, possibly purchased from Noah after he'd done with it, did warm the frozen bread through and  a second push down browned it lightly. There was a tub containing some off cuts of old butter which we used but some of the jams in the fridge looked a little old (none had use by dates)  and the mould on the lemon curd was off putting. Fortunately there was Vegemite where you can't see the mould. And so we had a reasonable breakfast, leaving the crockery and utensils we had used in the washing up box next to the toaster.

We went off to meet up with Nola, still without seeing our hostess. Rab called out at the door of her quarters to say we were taking the key and she responded, saying that she was still in her dressing gown, doing some work.

We came back at about four in the afternoon after a lovely day out and let ourselves into the locked house only to  find that our bed was precisely as we had left it in the morning - nothing had been made up. A disembodied voice from the living quarters enquired if we had a nice day and if we wanted any coffee. We declined and made up our bed ourselves.

We left the house again later that afternoon to join Nola and family for an evening meal, again taking the key and when we got back at about nine that night the light was out in the landlady's quarters. She had been adamant that  we should write in her new visitor's book - we would be the first guests to do so and Rab was very tempted to write exactly what she thought. I opposed that on the grounds that it wouldn't do any good.

 

We were awake the next morning early and decided against eating breakfast - there was now not enough milk for the two of us to have cereal in any event - and decided to get a bite to eat on the road to Auckland.

Farewell Pedfield Country House BnB, we'll not be returning.