Great Ending

Sunday, Jan 7th 2007

Well, it’s time to head 320 km (199 miles) down to the Capital City of New Zealand, Wellington, in the far south of North Island, in order to catch the 10:35am ferry crossing to Piction, South Island, the following morning, Mon-08-Jan

But first we take a quick unguided tour of Napier and its iconic Art Deco buildings in particular. The cause of the 1930s Art Deco building boom in the town was all down to a huge earthquake that occurred in 1931. The following regenerating construction programme adopted the Art Deco style of that particular period.

Enthusiasts from all over the world flock to this Art Deco ‘mecca’, almost as a pilgrimage, in order to admire the multitude of pastel-coloured buildings …















… but hey, c’mon, let’s be really honest, is there a normal everyday regular sorta bloke out there who really gives a flying fcuk about all this Art Crappo shite?!

… not me anyway, that’s for sure!

IMHO, it would have been better if they’d finished the job off properly back in 1931 and bulldozed the whole bleedin’ site, flat as a pancake.

It’s only a shame nukes weren’t around at the time, cuz the job could then have been done even quicker. Just think of it, in an instant, the blast would have caused a million dollars’ worth of improvements!

Better to have built a Disneyland theme park there instead … that’s wot I say

“Yo, Mickey … Whassup? Can ya’ll come out and play?”

“DISNEY KIWILAND”

DANG! – I can see it all now .. :o)

Way da go m’man – way da go!

So we’re back on the road again, the SH2 to be precise, heading outta Napierville by 11:15am in a southwesterly direction, quite soon through Hastings, and onwards down towards Wellington.

By 1:00pm we stop for a cuppa in Dannevirke right opposite this pre-1931 Art Deco building that, as you can see, claims to be the oldest provincial cinema in the country.

But the Kiwi signwriter can’t spell niether! .. ;o)

It’s all in the grammar, you see. There should be a singular possessive ‘s’ on the end of the proper noun ‘New Zealand’ and as such should be spelt with an apostrophe ‘s’ – like: “New Zealand’s Oldest Provincial Cinema” ...

… innit

For the most part, this section of SH2, from Napier to around 40 km (25 miles) or so north of Wellington, is a pretty boring ride – that is, by normal Kiwi motorcycling standards. Just mile after mile of fairly flat featureless arable land, with more than just a few vineyards thrown in here and there for good measure.

The T/A’s dashboard readings remain almost constant the whole time at: Speedo, just a smidgen below the maximum legal limit of 100 km/h (62 mph) – cuz let’s fes-up fellas, it really IS a target, isn’t it? .. ;o) – rev counter always at 4,500 rpm and never missing a beat; and the engine’s temperature needle never getting more than a quarter up its scale.

As I say, riding nearly always in a dead straight line, it’s mind-numbingly boring stuff.

By the time we reach Masterton we need to refuel and then go on all the way to Wellington. During the stop we bump into this ol’ boy, a former sheep sheerer called Jim, who had to be pensioned off early six years ago due to an industrial accident that damaged his right knee beyond repair. He reckons he wants to race me down the street!

He goes on to tell us, deadly seriously mind you, in a half tongue-in-cheek sorta way:
“Now look here see mate, when I gets really pissed, specially at noite , I loikes to drive me buggy roite down the woite line in the centre of the road back to me ‘ome, just down there a bit – reckons I gets more respeckt from the car and truck drivers this way … dja get m’drift mate? ”

Ellen and I are gobsmacked!

… and all I can think is, “Goodonya Jimbo! – You’d MUST be d’main man around these parts, I reckon” :o)

As I mentioned earlier, the ride down to Wellington was a bidofa chore, with the clear exception of a winding mountain pass up-and-over the Rimutaka Range between Featerstone and Upper Hutt. That particular section of the ride was fun and required full-on concentration to successfully negotiate the many twists and sweeps and without mistake or mishap. I was ready for this, particular after just riding for four entirely unmemorable hours.

By 4:45pm we entered the outskirts of Wellington and started the now familiar search for overnight accommodation, ideally near the Interislander Ferry Terminal.

The very first Bead & Breakfast establishment we approached, on the opposite (Mt Cook) side of the harbour from the Ferry Terminal, turned-out to be a real bewt! The ‘Oriental Bay B&B’A NZD $3.5M valued property owned and run by Warren and the fair Beverley – for a bidda ‘pocket money’ (“Cash ONLY please, no cheques or cards …we thank you”)

Warren’s a biker too, albeit a Harley owner! .. :o(sad b~stard); but he does drive a great cage, a brand new Jaguar XK, one of only three that have been hitherto imported into the whole country.



This is our lounge …

… and our bedroom …

… complete with private veranda

Nothing but THE best fixtures, fittings and furniture throughout this fine dwelling. AND the T/A is under cover for the second night in succession.

Just down the hill from the Oriental Bay B&B, literally on the opposite side of the street, we retire to the Fishermans Table Restaurant & Bar*, where we enjoy:
(a) A couple of cold Export Gold beers
(b) Scallops Mornay, as an entrée
(c) Followed by grilled Stargazer fish (Huh? – WTF is that?) served on a mushroom pâté, coated with a cream & white wine sauce; with croquette pots, and a terrific selection of help-yourself-to-as-much-as-you-can-eat salads, from the salad bar.

(d) All liberally washed-down with a large carafe of chilled Chardonnay house wine.

What a Great Ending – to a mixed bag of a day


* Can anyone spot the [eh-hem] 'possible' deliberate, or otherwise, grammatical error here?!