Having a great time so far.
Very lucky with the weather apart from the chill. Hobbiton was the highlight yesterday but I also really enjoyed finally visiting a couple of towns I’ve only ever driven through before.
The first was Tokoroa, a forestry town in the Waikato. We had brunch in a cafe where we sat outside in the courtyard. There were two Maori women at the table next to us who had a couple of toddlers with them. Their conversation was interesting. I wasn’t eavesdropping, they were just talking loudly. One of them was nervous about going out that night in case she got drunk “because remember what happened last time I was drunk…” with a significant nod towards the youngest child present. She also talked about her 17 year old son, who recently got thumped by a family friend. She was hopeful this might be an incentive for him to turn his life around. I hope she’s right.
In the meantime, all through our meal I could hear intermittent shouts and cheering from a nearby building. Finally I decided to go and have a nosy and try and find out what was going on. It turned out to be a fitness centre, where there was a weightlifting competition going on with a large and enthusiastic crowd watching. It was a private club, but the people at the door were very nice and let me go in and have a look. It was a completely foreign environment for me and it was fascinating.
It was clear the town had been through some hard times – there were a lot of sad and tired old shops – but there was also evidence of some money being put in: new commercial building, and beautification projects. Still the most pervasive odour was from the numerous fried chicken places. What is it that makes the smell of fried chicken so alluring? Outside one dingy cafe there was a sign which I wanted to take a photo of but there was a man grumpily staring at me so I couldn’t. It had three words on it: rugby – with a tick; racing – with a tick; and politics – with a cross. I assume it was a list of safe conversational topics, and political discourse was not appreciated.
Another sign I wish I’d got a photo of was one in another town we drove through as we went north. It was at the “Over the moon” cheese shop and cafe. It said “Cheese tasting Coffee” which I initially thought sounded very unappealing, until I figured out it wasn’t a description of the coffee but rather two separate things.
After Hobbiton we raced through Hamilton and Auckland as fast as we could get, although hampered by Google which sent us through the back suburbs of Hamilton in a very frustrating manner. We hadn’t booked anywhere for the night but reached Warkworth at around 6 pm so decided to stop there. It was a struggle to find accommodation which was a surprise but we eventually found an unprepossessing motel which had room for us. I’ve only ever driven through Warkworth so it was interesting to look around. It turns out to be quite a genteel, boutique sort of place. There’s an enormous brand new retirement complex right in the middle of town, which I’m sure brings in large amounts of money and increases the demand for coffee shops, middle class women’s clothing stores, and funeral homes. We saw hardly any young people about, though. I guess they all scarper off to the bright lights of Auckland as soon as they’re old enough.
We has a lovely dinner at a restaurant overlooking the river, only marred by a man at the next table talking loudly about himself. He had nothing interesting to say, but was obviously just in love with his own voice. I felt most sorry for his date.