Art Deco - Napier, New Zealand
Napier, New Zealand
The 6 hour drive south was long, interesting but most of all pretty enjoyable. It was like driving through the Lake District except substituting the lakes for turquoise ocean, fantastic. The Simpkins have been taking a bit of a hammering, looks like we are going to have to start rationing them soon. This journey did however produce a monumental and historic event. The roads were straightish and quiet, I was in a bit of auto pilot mode when out of the blue my thoughts of only 4 more no sleeps before a proper bed were shattered by Carole's voice, " I think I would like to drive a bit", nearly choking on my Simpkins, I gave her a slightly quizzical sideways glance and replied " Ok if you want to" not sure if she was going to invoke her 30 minutes cooling off period which is statutory with any decision she makes. " I think I can manage these roads" she replied confidently. So a quick detour was taken off the main road into a little village on the coast. It had one long straight road in and out. Out of the pilots seat I got, in she went and after a few minutes of adjustments to seating, mirrors, lipstick etc, off she went. A complete natural it was as if she had been produced in a can! Come to think of it her father did use to have a camper, ( for the record this was the real McCoy VW camper 2nd hand from uncle Jim Quinlivan and it was orange and cream/white) so with confidence boosted after a successful test drive she was ready for the open road. She settled into it with ease and may I say drove The Can very well for an hour or so. I sat in the co pilots seat and reflected on the events that occurred. Carole had experienced a non customary early start to the day, followed by some vigorous exercise and then had a bright lights in her eyes, resulting in her enthusiasm and willingness to take on some of the tasks regarded as man's work. I came to the conclusion that this may well be worth trying when we get home. I'll set the alarm for 6am, shine a torch in her face , get her up and tell her to run down to Sammy's to get the newspaper while I stay in bed. As you can see I still believe in fairy tales. A photo is attached of her opening up The Can on a straight bit of road. The route down to Napier took us through and past places of historical interest, so Carole has decided to include an educational supplement for our younger readers and those older ones that did not pay much attention in history and geography lessons at school. A bit of history for the kids New Zealand 's European history started on the 6th October 1769 when Captain James Cook ( of the British Royal Navy) sailed his boat called the Endeavor to New Zealand . On board the ship was a cabin boy called Nicholas Young, his father was the ship's surgeon. Nick was sat up on the masthead of the ship ( that's the big pole that holds the big pieces of cloth called the sails) when he saw land and told the captain what he could see. They landed the boat at Kaitli beach which is at Gisborne -can you see it on the map? Because the local people, who had lived there much longer and are called Maori people, we're not then very friendly, Captain Cook called the bay, where the boat was, Poverty Bay. The piece of land that Nick first saw comes out into the sea and is called a peninsula which people named Young Nick's head. I firmly believe that travel in its self is a great education and leveller about really how bad things are. When we left home it was the firemen that were striking and moaning about pensions and having to work till they were 60. The case presented was that they would not physically be capable of doing the job when they are that age. WRONG. We encountered the men of the Whaihu Bay Fire Service and proved you can, as long as you keep yourself in tip top physical shape age is no bar. I took a photo of one of the crew who was 69 , fit as a fiddle, passed his fitness & medical every year, no problem. So Barry tell your ex chums and the FBU to get off their asses, give the snooker a rest and stop whinging! Eventually we arrived at Napier and were allocated a very agreeable pitch by the very helpful young lady in reception. We found it, we parked up and we hitched up as they say in camper vanners jargon. Got the picnic table and chairs out, took the tops of a couple of Tui's and sat back for, may I say it myself, a well deserved break and reflecting on my experience as a pseudo camper. If any of you are in doubt as to my previous claim that camper ins is a mostly female thing then what happened next will surely convince you. As I surveyed the scene on the park, as they say my attention was drawn to the approaching CV. It was a Britz one, Britz is a company whose vans are reputedly favoured by some of my fellow countrymen who wish to advertise there national identity but do do not wish to resort to wearing England football shirts or Union Jack shorts. As it passed by me looking for their pitch I saw the occupants were a middle aged couple, the male driving, the female wearing glasses. They found their pitch, at the end on the opposite side of the road to us. It came to a halt, seat belts were unfastened and the doors opened. The male immediately went to get his mains power lead and hitched up, the female surveyed the scene as if she had just landed on the moon. She was clearly unhappy with her pitch. Whilst he continued to carry out the necessary domestic duties to ensure a full facilities stay, she strode off purposely, site map in hand in the direction of the reception. He continues to prepare his nest to be as comfortable as possible after what has no doubt been a long drive. She returns, there is a brief conversation between them, which results in him unplugging the electricity cable and undoing all his doing in her absence. The van doors open, they get inside and drive a full four pitches up from where they were. They come to rest directly opposite us. The doors open,they get out, he hitches up the electric again, she continues to survey her surroundings and looks somewhat uneasily in our direction. I detect an air of uncertainty in her mind, as to whether she is entirely happy being directly opposite us. After completing his essential tasks he asks her in somewhat less than caring Home Counties tone,"Are you sure you are happy with this one?" Not having received a response , he duly enters the van and returns with two glasses and a bottle of white wine. He promptly opens the bottle and pours some into the two glasses. He duly takes a sizeable gulp, still not having received a reply to his enquiry he saunters off in the direction of the gents. She remains in situ still surveying the scene, as we have not spoken she is blissfully unaware that we are Oiks from the North or of the covert surveillance she is under. She clearly softens and sits down and take a sip of the wine. He returns and sees she is still in situ and drinking her wine. He takes her actions to amount to a positive response to his enquiry and sits down as well. She gets on her mobile and is clearly organising what he is going to be doing during his stay in Napier. He does not say anything but returns inside the van and returns with a load of nibbles and a bottle of red wine. He places them on the table with a firmness that clearly stated " I'm staying put" and fair play to him he did. Pure gold. We dined well outside The Can and once we had finished I felt the need to be part of the full campers experience. This site had a bar and I could think of no good reason why I should not enjoy the benefits of a Friday night visit to see what the site bar had to offer. So we went, the bar was attached to the restaurant. I was expecting the place to be quite crowded with people exchanging humourous and informative tales of the campers life. On entering I was speechless, the restaurant was completely empty and so was bar. I thought we must be a bit early, it was only 8.45pm. I was greeted at the bar by a very friendly girl who enquired if we wanted to eat, when I told her we did not she responded with a beaming smile "that's good cos the restaurant closed at 8.30". I agreed that was indeed good and then enquired what time the bar shut. "9pm but don't worry I've got a few things to do, so it will be a bit later than that". My immense feeling of disappointment was tempered by the fact that she proudly showed me her range of Hawkes Bay real ales. I sampled a couple whilst Carole got into the spirit of the bar experience by sitting alone on one of the less than comfortable chairs in front of the 50 inch TV screen watching an episode of the Graham Norton show. It can't have been that old as he, Lady Gaga and Dot Cotton were wearing their poppies. Not wishing to overstay our welcome at 9.15 we retreated to the security of The Can, asking myself why is it you've denied yourself this pleasure for over 25 years? So Saturday was a day of different activities, views, wine and art. First we went out to Cape Kidnappers, so called as this is where Captain Cook first pulled up and the local bad boys tried to kidnap his Tahitian translator, the tide was in so we couldn't actually walk out to the headland. Never mind, we then went up to the peak of Mount Te Mata. At 399 metres it gives you a fantastic 360 degree panoramic view of the area. One of the places you can see is the place with the longest name in the world. No, we couldn't see that funny little place in Wales, Llanfairpg (or similar),this was TAUMATAWHAKATARGIHNGKOAUAUOTOMATEAPOKAI WHEUAKITANATAHU. So Ellis, that's one to ask your teacher and if she thinks you are kidding her, tell her to look in the Guiness Book of Records. So after being up the peak it was time to visit some of the wineries Hawkes Bay is famous for. We went to the Black Barn, where we had a very good lunch accompanied by a glass of very drinkable Syrah (photos attached). We then tagged onto a tasting for a group of 8 geologists who were on a 2 day wine tasting tour and this was their 5th winery of the day, so unlike the reds their mood was very light hearted. We then moved on to the Te Mata winery, which is the oldest winery in NZ and very good wines they are too. TIPPLERS TIP Look out for The Ned, Pinot Gris, a very unusual but fine tasting wine. It has a very faint reddish hue to it, not as deep as a blush. Carole thought it was the reflection from my red nose, correction shirt. I don't think you will find it on the 3 for £10 shelf in Asda. To round the day off we had a stroll round Napier town centre, the Art Deco capital. After the earthquake in 1931 which destroyed most of the buildings and killed a lot of people. It was rebuilt in the Art Deco style which was fashionable at the time. Our tour round was very pleasant and after our slice of culture it was time to head back to camp, not to the excitement of the bar again but to enjoy a different kind of art with some of our purchases from the wineries.