I found my way to Palmerston North. My initial plan had been to head to Taranaki and New Plymouth however, cyclone warnings had popped up all over the North Island, meaning a change in direction was required. So, I ended up in Palmerston North. Having driven south on Highway 54 through Fielding, I had arrived in Palmerston North, checked into a hotel, and went for a walk. Having spent half an hour discovering a Plaza, I ended up strolling around the town square before asking myself, now what? Earlier, while calling into a cafe for lunch, I had read that Palmerston North had a bustling town centre just waiting to be explored. Now, a few hours late, so far I had discovered that the town centre certainly wasn't bustling and I wasn't sure what was left to be explored. Check out my daily blog from a small city. https://fromasmallcity.nz/ To purchase email john@caswellimages.com
In the morning I awoke with that feeling of dread that overcomes you the second you first open your eyes and realise the first few moments of the day are going to encompass dealing with your own stupidity. I’d forgotten to leave the heating on and as such my room was like an ice box. The only way to solve this problem was to either brave my way across to the heat pump and set it so the room temperature resembled a Caribbean Island as quickly as possible, or dash straight for the shower and the instant awakening from a blast of hot water. I braced myself and got up, heading for the shower, stopping only momentarily to flick both the kettle and heat pump on. A short while later, having readied myself for the day which included packing, I headed out into a fine Central Otago morning. The streets were quiet with the only signs of life being parents desperately trying to get their children into the family car for Saturday morning sport. I headed across town and five minutes later I was crossing the Manuherikia River and driving up Little Valley Road into the hills above Alexandra where I would be able to enjoy seeing the Alexandra Clock up close. The clock was installed in 1968 and has been keeping regular time ever since, apart from a brief period in 2020 when someone swung on the arms of the clock during lockdown and it stopped, forcing repairs to be made. To get to the clock there’s a very steep track that can be navigated, something I wasn’t prepared to do on this trip, however you do get to glimpse the clock as you head to the observation deck and lookout in Little Valley. I headed there now and found myself with views that simply are outstanding. As I took in the view in the crisp morning air I noticed most of the activity seemed to be coming from runners heading out of town onto one of the many dirt roads that surround the town. The smoke from chimneys started to drift across the valley and in the distance the traffic heading further inland seemed to already be growing. I suspected most people forget about views such as the one in front me. Check out my daily blog from a small city. https://fromasmallcity.nz/ To purchase email john@caswellimages.com
The next morning I awoke to the sound of birds chirping and a temperature gauge reading -2. So, after sorting myself for the day which included donning the thickest pair of socks I had, I headed out into the crisp morning air. It was early enough that most people were still tucked up somewhere warm, so the streets were all but empty and it wasn’t long before the shops came into view. I crossed at the corner of Centennial Ave and Bedford Street when suddenly I found my feet involuntarily giving way beneath me and I was no longer in control of my own equalibrum. Doing my best to imitate a drunken giraffe on roller skates, I eventually came to rest beside a conveniently placed handrail. Turning to view the sparkling patch of ice that had broken my stride, I found that my balancing act had been witnessed by a small group of early morning walkers. As they generously applauded my efforts, in return I assured them that yes, I do in fact do my own stunts! A while later and back in the warmth of the cottage, armed with the morning paper, coffee and deliciously fresh croissants I sat down to examine the state of world affairs. One of the main features was a news item outlining that The Queen did not attend the Jubilee service at St Paul’s Cathedral because of discomfort and that she didn’t feel up to it. If we read between the lines, what this really means is that the night before her majesty got whammed on gin and forgot all about it! My guess is that after waking up some time mid morning with a stonking hangover and discovering a list of abusive phones calls and text message she’d sent to Prince Andrew the night before, she order McDonalds via Uber and settled into binge watching Sex Education on Netflix in her dressing gown with a cigar for the afternoon. Then, sometime around 5pm after being told by Prince Charles that “Oh mummy you're such an embarrassment,” she poured herself a pint of Tetley’s and did donuts on a mobile scooter in the throne room for the rest of evening. It was at this point that I noticed the plants outside were defrosting as the sun peeked over the surrounding hills. This, I took as my cue to leave as I had to stop by Pak n Save Supermarket (something I was not looking forward to) and I was also wanting to see the former Lower Shotover Bridge.
