As mentioned, last night we enjoyed a fairly good meal in the in-house restaurant at the Heartland Hotel, and probably stayed slightly too long. Upon reflection, the consensus is that the meal was possibly the cause of insomnia mentioned below.
In re-reading my epistle from yesterday I note that predictive text, and the lack of proper proof reading, have beaten me again. Unfortunately sleep proved elusive, at least between 1am and 6am, and to pass the time watching both men’s and women’s T20 matches against India- something I’d normally go to great lengths to avoid, but being the fair weather sportsman that I am (as long as “my” favoured team is winning, I’ll remain interested), and with few other options in my over tired state, cricket it was. That being the case, I was slightly off the ball for an 8:30 departure, and whilst not late, the others were waiting, front and centre, chomping at the bit when I appeared. Our first leg of the day was 3km to our favourite local bakery, where we decided that pies and coffee (a well proven formula from previous stops in Gore) would suffice for breakfast. We’ve enjoyed pies on three days, and so far we have 3 favourites.... Rather than the direct route to Wanaka, we opted for our traditional option, a circuitous route, doubling the distance, and making for day of far greater impact. More roads in the hinterland untroubled by very much traffic (or traffic cops) allowed us to move at a very good clip, and to take in the wonderful scenery that notes the progression from Southland into Central Otago - in crossing the Matura River, the flat and rolling pasture and hundreds of seemingly content dairy cows of Southland slowly progress into the woolly merinos of Central Otago. I made a point of taking a photo at a memorial in the middle of nowhere - a lasting monument to those who went off to War in 1914-18 and never came back, their name carved in granite the last memory grieving mothers and families had of sons seeking adventure. These sacred sites can be found in every town, regardless of how humble, and like this one, having survived longer than the community from which at the young men were drawn. As you’d expect, extra space was found after WWII (and subsequent wars) for those who proved the prophecy of “The War to End All Wars” was a fallacy. Roxburgh was our next stop, coffee, tea, and real baking, scones, cakes and sausage rolls that grandmother would be proud to call her own, and as we relaxed, we watched friends fromAuckland pass by, Neville and Yvonne on my previous bike, Beyoncé being notable. Following two women on a mission and with a lead foot in a speedy Honda SUV provided quick trip from Roxburgh through to Alexandra - they helpfully proving a sacrificial lamb in the event of any overly zealous policemen, before resuming normal speed through to Cromwell, then to Arrowtown to meet the newly arrived ladies for lunch. Now tired after a long day - I need some sleep - More to follow. Don Malcolm +64 21 924 114 Comments are closed.
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Don MalcolmA perfect day involves being on my Harley with a long ride ahead.
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