ON THE ROAD AGAIN.
A friend has a one-man furniture moving business and while normally he’s on the road between the two islands, recently he moved someone from Ōamaru to Reefton. At the mention of Reefton, Audrey’s mother and I exchanged glances and you could instantly read ‘feel like a trip to Reefton?’ in that glance.
I like Reefton and in another life gave about five seconds thought to buying Wilson’s Hotel on the main street and moving there from Auckland. But sanity returned very quickly.
We knew we were heading into ‘cold’ country so Audrey’s mother brought winceyette sheets and duvet covers; we filled the Sprinter up with diesel and off we went.
As usual, we had no firm plan, but night one was spent in a remarkable public park-over spot on the outskirts of Oxford. It was council-owned but payment was by donation, highlighting the inconsistencies in motorhome parking across New Zealand.
Up until recently, when he put his foot in it, we had a Minister of Tourism
