It took nine hours to get from Westport to Dunedin, not on interstate motorways but instead by roads built along the sides of mountain passes. In a country where air conditioning meant winding the window down more, and on roads that could be better thought of as secondary to pot holes, nine hours in a car was extreme torture to anyone, let alone a ten year old.
As a child I remember thinking that if I could just get to sleep, the trip would pass faster - all assuming you or your siblings didn't get car-sick along the way and set everyone else off. It was all in vein - someone always got sick, and usually after waking from a deep sleep.
The first part of the trip through the Buller Gorge was amazing, but as the family car hit the Canterbury plains the scenery slowly changed from green to brown and the hot "nor-westers" blew relentlessly through our windows, as we slowly baked under the midday sun.
After Christchurch we knew we were over half way, yet still had 4 hours to go. The roads south from now on were straight to the point of absurd. We couldn't wait until we hit the winding roads around Oamaru just to break the boredom. Sixty minutes from home we sat, eyes glued to the front windscreen, playing the age old game of "First to see Dunedin". No one cared who won, because thirty minutes later we would be home.
We always complained that the butter tasted funny after 9 weeks in the fridge, and the first dinner was limited to what what was in the pantry, because in the 70's there were no 24 hour supermarkets, and even the dairies closed in the early evening.
Behold New Zealand in the 70's - where all coffee was instant and milk was 5cents a pint. I know because I put the coin in the glass bottle we left for the milkman at the letterbox, sure in the knowledge we'd have a bottle of milk for our breakfast WeetBix the next day, unless (obviously) it was a Sunday. Because no one worked on a Sunday.
For better or worse, I think I miss that part the most.
6 comments:
Loved this trip down memory lane. I used to go to Arrowtown with the Weedons, when the gorge roads were so different to today and the road to Glenorchy was all about dust.
Forgot about the dust!
Heading back to Auckland on Sunday. By airplane - so no dust - yay!
Thanks to Di's site I found this gem! Your story reminded me of the same trip to the grandparents in the 70's but in the North Island. Inspired so I am writing it now, feel free to check it out on my own site soon.
Yes, this a shame that the milkman business has declined so rapidly. It would have been the perfect job for me, or maybe not. I never actually knew a milkman. Since I'm from the 24h supermarket generation, which is completely not true since most aren't open on Sunday and then I always want something.
New Zealand sounds so epic and grand in your trip. Completely unlike Belgium where you at least could play the saw-a-red-car hit-you-on-the-arm game. But we aren't bg enough for nine hour trips, we'll at least not nine hour trips and moving. Traffic jams is more our thing.
hope that one day you can take your kids through the curling mountain potholes of buller gorge.
Hiya Di.
I remember the Cromwell gorge before they built the Clive Dam - so much more impressive now it's gone.
Hi Kiwis in Eizer - I've dropped by already but I see you're still got that work in progress :) I cant wait to drop by to check out your recollection.
Manic - So sorry to hear that Supermarkets are closed on Sundays - whats with that? I hope your online "village" has a true 24 hour Supermarket :)
Well, I did it - check it out!
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