Category Archives: around home

around home, bikepacking, bikes, friends, GPS, NZ

Long Labour Weekend Eastern Loop

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With a bit of unfinished business from not completing the Easter Eastern Loop, another shoulder-season long weekend seemed perfect opportunity to complete it. I had planned to do so in a few weeks’ time as part of the Mega Gravel Grind event, but find myself with insufficient leave. Pete decided to join me so far as Rotorua; meeting at work, we drove north to Wairoa, locked the car and left in search of supplies for the remote section the following day.

A pair of SIR9s ready to leave Wairoa.

Cloudier than expected, the threatened rain didn’t come to anything, and the southerly pushed us on our way north out of town and past Frasertown.

We followed the Wairoa River for an hour or so through sheep and beef country.

While a sealed road, with next to no traffic it was most pleasant and with a couple of climbs we made good progress to Tiniroto. I’d phoned the previous day and made sure the pub would be open. They stayed open just for us, even managing to rustle up homemade pies and hot chips. The community centre was even available for us to sleep in. That is how we found ourselves sleeping in a play centre adjoining a village hall.

The large hall looked perfect for a three-wheeled race circuit.

Sleeping quarters for the night; I could brush up on my ABCs and traffic awareness.

Quite cosy inside, we didn’t realise it was frosty until departing the following morning. Is it even worth keeping a pie tally? I had my fourth of the trip for breakfast.

Would stay again. The sun just starting to make it over the first-thing-of-the-day climb.

The three kilometre climb helped us warm up; losing more altitude than we’d gained did not. Extremities curled and numbed, our gloves and socks better suited to the weather that was forecast for the rest of the weekend – sunny, still and warm spring days.

Finally the sun hit us; generally not whizzing downhill helped alleviate the chill in our digits.

The familiar climbs and descents continued as we zigged and zagged east and west, slowly making northward progress through farmland – only stopping once to let a mob of steers be driven past us. It feels most rude to be out riding bikes and holding up people going about their work. I particularly enjoyed the Waikura valley back in April, this time was no different. What was different was the incredible number of kowhai in their bright yellow bloom. Quite used to seeing one or two of these native trees in flower, this was on a scale I had not seen before – fantastic.

Finally we were on a gravel road, and pleasingly it did not have the sustained patches of fresh, uncompacted drudgery and toil that I remember from Easter.

This view was as good as last time.

Switching to following the Hangaroa River for a while led to mild climbing, and then a bit more heading north to the next valley – the Wharekopae. We did spy one of those brilliant golf courses in the middle of nowhere – where the chief turf control experts are someone’s ably employed flock of sheep.

A brief stop at Rere School to have first-lunch and fill bottles plonked us on some seal to Rere Falls.

This was about the only place I saw multiple people last time; this time – not so much.

Past the Rere Rockslide, the road reverted to gravel and the climbing continued with only brief respite as we rose five hundred metres or so.

But with skies and views like this, the climbing was easy-going.

Crossing the watershed we joined the headwaters of the Motu, State Highway Two briefly, and then made it to Matawai to refuel and restock supplies.

Down the road a bit, Motu village had an open cafe! Just in time before closing for more ice cream and cold drinks.

Motu village sights

A fine forty minutes of climbing took us up the Motu road and over into the Bay of Plenty. Losing some of that height, we rolled down the road to the Pakihi Track trailhead. At five in the afternoon, we figured we could get out of twenty kilometres of singletrack through dense native forest before dark – that the first half was markedly downhill and the second half gradually down helped our estimation.

The trail was in perfect condition and we had much fun. Halfway down I learnt valuable lessons of what spares to take. Slashing the sidewall of my rear tyre over rather innocuous (or so they seemed) rocks, I couldn’t seal the tubeless up and it turns out the tubolito spare tube I was carrying was rubbish. Thankfully Pete was better prepared and borrowing one of his tubes, I didn’t have to face a ten kilometre walk out. Taking things a bit easier, we made it out with about an hour of daylight and twenty kilometres of easy roads to Opotoki remaining.

After filling our bellies at a popular local takeaway shop (it may have been the only one open in town), creature comforts proved too tempting and we found an old hotel that would let us store our bikes inside. My first two-hundred-plus kilometre day since Easter, it wasn’t overly difficult – Pete’s and my pace for such touring riding seems well matched.

Saturday morning got off to a good, if slower, start…

State Highway Two, again, took us west out of town showing off much of the Bay. Nice to see Whale Island from the other side to three weeks prior.

Pete had been told of a backroad alternative to Taneatua – it broke up what would have been eighty kilometres of flats very nicely. Up steeply through lifestyle blocks, the road turned to gravel as we entered forest and rode along a ridge, still climbing.

A potential bivy spot? Probably not. After brief stretches of pasture, we went back into the shade of native forest losing all our height to blast back to a short stretch of highway to Taneatua.

Time for a milkshake and a pie – this one pork and watercress (when in Taneatua…), voted best of the trip – beating off numerous competitors.

Nearing Awakeri, I couldn’t resist peeking in at a rally of old trucks. This one of significance because this company use to cart for us a bit when I was growing up, and was owned by parents of a primary school classmate. Strange the things one sees while bikepacking.

Off the stretch of well-built highway (judged mainly on the ample shoulder), we were finally back to hills – climbing to Manawahe on the road we’d descended three weeks earlier. Around the tops of Lakes Rotoma and Rotoehu there was some lovely native forest, a rugged four-wheel drive track and much gravel as production forests surrounded us. At the top of Maniatutu Road Pete continued on the course back to his home in Rotorua, while I diverted north to head to Te Puke.

Why is it only this year that I’ve notice cabbage trees in flower? They look so different to what I’m used to.

Back on the flats, with another pit stop for refuelling, it was only fifteen kilometres to ride in to Te Puke. It was a little odd to be riding into a town that was for so long home – yet one I’d never really ridden into before. A little annoyed that I spent so long there and didn’t explore more around the area on bike – as I was finding out, there were plenty of gravel roads and hills to seek out.

Lovely stay with one of my second-families, it must have been two years since I was last in town. One of the reasons for the diversion from the posted route was that I’d finally be able to ride some of the gravel roads that I knew were lurking above Te Puke and would connect me to Rotorua. It really was as simple as riding up my old street, past my primary school, past the house (I guess) I’ve lived in the longest and just keep on going.

Quickly the houses turned to orchard after orchard (mostly kiwifruit, but far more avocados than I remember). For half-seven on a Sunday morning, the road was ridiculously busy – orchard workers heading off for the start of the day.

This cute old hall stands at the end of a straight – for some reason I barely remember it, despite no doubt having passed it many times. Admittedly, it’s been restored – but not out of nothing.

A long gradual climb (of only a few percent) had me looking back over the coast and long-familiar landmarks. Ten kilometres up the road, I’d climbed enough that the orchards ended and pasture began – it gets too frosty up here for kiwifruit growing. The sou-wester I was riding right into was sapping my energy and my breakfast soon wore off; I was definitely underdone on supplies and I felt my mood slipping in the cool, cloudy and windy morning.

The gravel started and promptly deposited me in deserted native forest. Most pleasant Sunday morning riding out of the wind.

Out into the open again, the hills around Rotorua beckoned.

Pine forest clad the climb to the Rotorua-Tauranga highway, which was busy enough and this section has two deep gorges to whizz into and grovel out of. Leaving the highway before Lake Rotorua, I wanted to go somewhere new – in this case, Kaharoa which I’d never heard of. But with the sun coming out, the wind at my back and a slight descent – I thoroughly enjoyed rolling past. There was a bit of a climb out of the valley, before dropping all the way down to the lake and taking the road less-travelled back to the route.

Twenty kilometres took me into Rotorua, passing and being passed by a large contingent of roadies out for Sunday morning (they were surprisingly chatty and interested in the bikepacking weekend), led me to a pit-stop at Pete’s house. The bike got a new tyre to replace the slashed one and I was well-fed – thanks Pete!

The climb out of Rotorua to the south-east doesn’t seem like two hundred and fifty metres worth as the cycle path is so smooth and the wind is usually helpful – as it was this time.

Mt Tarawera just as I entered Rerewhakaaitu.

A glorious afternoon for riding, I made good time over the hundred kilometres to Murupara. The third time I’d covered some of these roads this year, things were rather familiar.

Clouds were starting to gather over the Ureweras as I rode the final straight into town.

Sunday evening of a long weekend, I wasn’t sure if I’d find places open to eat. Thankfully I did, but downtown was pretty dire – one of those places where everyone you meet warns you to lock up your bike. Still, all I met were friendly and, despite sticking out like a sore thumb, I had a most pleasant evening. Rooms weren’t much more than camping (for good reason), so with those clouds amassing I was soft and slept inside again.

Labour Day was a glorious day for the final hundred and sixty kilometres back to my car – another three-pie day, which is not really related to the glorious nature of the day. For the first few hours there was little traffic, and what traffic there was was local and very considerate. My third bikepacking trip across here, the hills came and went – my legs still felt good after three days of riding and I was thoroughly enjoying the surroundings, the climbing challenges and not having to nurse a painful knee.

This was one of quite a few marae I saw around here that are remarkably well turned out.

I only got chased by dogs once, and in a quite different spot to normal (Te Whaiti as opposed to Te Waiiti – actually, those look remarkably similar place names); but the dogs were chased away by a passing car. Ruatahuna now has a fancy new community centre (store, cafe, gas station, accommodation that I’d quite like to stay in, and so on). Unfortunately it’s all closed on Sundays and Mondays, so I just rested in the shade and ate. The closure did lead to the quote of the day, probably the trip, from a friendly local passing by: “Come back tomorrow and the community centre is open. You can get a coffee and a mean feed. Chur bro.”.

Predictably, the holiday traffic markedly increased in the afternoon and I was occasionally choked in dust. Still, the scenery through these parts is stunning.

Panekiri Bluff standing above Waikaremoana.

The undulations around the north of the lake rolled by and I grabbed some food and water at the store far earlier (two versus six o’clock) than I had at Easter. Three hours took me back to Wairoa; after the big descent from the lake, the rolling hills gradually wear thin. Well pleased to actually finish this loop, with a hundred kilometre addition, this time I took care to refuel plenty before the drive home. Seven hundred and forty kilometres in just less than four days – a good touring pace with sufficient hills. I’ll have to step it up a bit for the Mega GGG in ten days’ time (lack of leave and all…).





around home, bikepacking, bikes, GPS, NZ

Te Apiti mud-fest (Waimarama, Kairakau S24O)

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Waipukurau. Saturday. One o’clock.

That’s where Carl had to be to meet his family returning from Palmerston North. Why drive when you can ride a bike and camp at the beach overnight? A plan was hatched during the week to enable this and get some bikepacking, not to mention training for Tour Aotearoa for Carl, in. I managed to sort-of work in a paper road I’d wanted to ride for some time into the plan.

Friday after work there was much rushing to get my bike loaded before we rendezvoused at the mouth of the Tutaekuri River. Battling a strong on-shore wind, we met and the drizzle set in. Nearing six o’clock, would we have enough time to ride with loaded bikes the forty kilometres over the hills to Waimarama before the pub kitchen closed? (This is becoming a theme, one I quite like – ensuring one rides efficiently and fast enough to get one’s dinner. Strong motivation.)

Familiar cycle trails were easy miles as the rain strengthened. We crossed the Red Bridge and things became less familiar – I had been on this road once before, back in July. On a grey, damp evening traffic was light; there was ample opportunity to ride side-by-side and discuss bikepacking, TA details and thankfully, little work. With only three hundred metres of climbing, it was a leisurely Friday evening ride – the rain and the summer heat making it rather muggy. Ascending the last climb, the rain had ceased and it was pleasant riding as we drew closer to that kitchen.

At the crest of that climb, Waimarama Beach and Bare Island stretched in front of us.

Whizzing off the hill and along the flats, we made a bee-line for the pub, put our orders in and went to make camp at the local camping ground while the light held, as did the clouds. We returned to demolish our meals in one of those pubs where the patrons propping up the bar have not seen people riding into the local from a distant place, loaded with camping gear – it’s fun and amusing to be accorded astonishment and respect for such a small ride. Marveling at how achievable and great Friday-after-work bikepacking escapes are, we began plotting other possible ventures.

Rising after a sound sleep, decamping, and snacking we rolled off into a grey morning at the leisurely hour of seven o’clock. Gradually climbing up Te Apiti Road through farmland was an easy warm-up for the day. After ten kilometres we reached the end of the road and lifted our bikes over the gate onto Te Apiti Station. Checking in with the manager the day before, he’d warned Carl that it was raining and the track would be boggy. We figured we could deal with this.

It definitely wasn’t boggy. The track hardly looked wet. But we quickly found, when we couldn’t even ride up the first short, steep rise, that the innocent looking dirt track was exceptionally tacky. Rolling over it, walking over, the surface much preferred to detach itself from the earth and fasten itself to tyres and shoes. I have never experienced such vast quantities of such adhesive mud.

For two hours we tried to ride on the grass when possible; most often we couldn’t and so resorted to churning through the tackiness. This mostly consisted of pushing one’s bike until the wheels bound themselves in the frame, then dragging the bike and finally succumbing and stopping to remove vast wads of mud from, well, everything. At one stage in the middle of it all, we rode a few hundred metres and it was incredible! Just when it seemed to be getting better, we struck the worst patch yet – unfortunately this coincided with a steep, slippery ascent from which there was no escape to grass on the side. Getting ridiculous by then, we finally could look down and see a gravel farm track – it was almost over! That two hours got us a massive five and a half kilometres.

You know it’s bad when your 2.4″ tyres turn into 4″ fat tyres; and you know it has gotten worse when the mud has bridged over the rims.

My new shoes, bought to be more comfortable for hike-a-bike, were getting a bit of walking in – but not looking so new all of a sudden. On the bright side, I did grow a couple of inches in stature.

Usually I have plenty of clearance between tyre and fork – not this day.

Nope, that wheel is not turning.

The countryside was ruggedly beautiful, but mostly I remember the remarkable mud. Bliss to be on a gravel road, our speed increased as we crested a couple of smaller hills before rolling down to Kairakau Beach. A small settlement of holiday homes, we tried to find somewhere to clean our bikes and shed a few kilograms of mud. Once again attracting attention for being a little mad, two dear older couples from Napier with long (five or so generations) ties to the area plied us with a large pot of tea and biscuits. And let us use their hose to wash our bikes from brown back to black. Fantastic.

Carl had somewhere to be and I had to get home as I was expecting guests. It turns out that riding out of Kairakau involves a good 250 m climb at a decent seven percent gradient. A different type of work, but preferable to making little progress through the mud. We parted ways at Elsthorpe, I stopped in at a country equestrian meet expecting a food stall of some sort – I was not disappointed. I enjoyed my first ride along the undulating Kahuranaki Road and arrived home in plenty of time after battling the same on-shore wind.

A most excellent little outing, made more memorable by being a lot more challenging than expected. As I’m starting to say more often on little adventures that don’t go quite to plan – good training for something. What something will be remains to be seen.

around home, bikepacking, bikes, event, family, NZ

The 2017 Letter – Just A Little Late

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Predictably, the end of the year got busy – organising Christmas surprises is rather more fun and pressing than putting musings of the previous year through the keyboard. After spending most of the year, for various reasons, saying I was not coming home for consecutive Christmases, I got everything lined up and duly arrived in Oamaru for the festive season. Somehow I’d managed to keep the secret, and there was much surprise and many hugs – so much fun, although I don’t imagine I can pull off such a coup again.

Making a surprise visit does make it difficult to plan other activities for the rest of the stay – but it worked out well with lovely time with family, much food and drink and managing to get out bikepacking for a few days over various passes I’d had my eye on for a while – more on that in another post. Biking and traveling at that time of year does give plenty of opportunity to consider the year past and the one to come.

Looking back on 2016’s missive, 2017 did not have such momentous biking or family events – but it was still exceptional and with all sorts of wonderful things going on.

First bikepacking trip was whipping through the Alps2Ocean with Adele in two and a half days – ably supported, and ridden in parts, by Mum and Dad.

Living in Napier continues to be delight me. I enjoyed much time walking, biking and generally exploring the surrounds. With my house within easy walking distance of the city centre and many attractions, there’s never a shortage of places to wander and things to see. I particularly enjoyed my first proper taste of the Art Deco festival – even if it was curtailed a little by unseasonably wet weather.

A big dress-up party for the whole city for days – brilliant fun!

The odd local bikepacking overnighter kept my hand in, as did the occasional sortie on gravel roads out in the hills. There’s still plenty more to explore, many places left to bike. Somehow I ended up competing in the local winter cyclocross series – on my full-suspension mountain bike. It was even muddy. To my surprise, I did enough in the first three races to win the B Grade series (skipping the final race as biking in Rotorua is so much more fun!) – turns out big chunky tyres are useful in such conditions, who knew?

Seven thousand kilometres per year on various bikes seems to be the norm now, achieving that mark for the fourth consecutive year (2016 being bigger with the 3000 km Tour Aotearoa blip); well pleased to be able to spend so much time outside doing one of the things I love most. With the MTB park at work closed for a lot of the year after extensive storm damage, there were many rides up and down Te Mata Peak – always worth it for the ever-changing view. The descents are rather fun too.

If I can see this hill from my house, surely I can see my house from this hill??

I didn’t take a lot of leave from work during the year, preferring to save it for when I really want to take it. But two visits from family were definitely such times. Mum and Dad’s getting-close-to-annual winter visit was the most fun yet – the highlight getting away for a few days to the remote and hilly north-east Manawatu to stay on a big sheep station; the bike ride was pretty cool too. After two years, Adele and James finally visited for early-Christmas (I managed to get through that week without letting slip that I’d see them in less than two weeks) and it was a busy six days of biking, walking, seeing sights, eating, drinking and generally enjoying the company of loved ones.

Beach walks with parents – not so hilly.

I finally made it to Cape Kidnappers. It’s quite a long, flat, hard walk – but the views make up for it on a hot summer’s day.

Continuing to host the occasional cycle tourist through warmshowers, I got inspired early in the year to start hosting AirBnB guests. As well as bringing in a bit of extra money for home maintenance, it’s nice to sometimes have a bit of company in the house – as with the cycle tourists, it’s also great to hear accents from around the globe. Traveling abroad without leaving home in some ways.

I’ve enjoyed slowly learning various home maintenance tasks. AirBnB was very busy early on and helped to fund the major house maintenance and improvements of the year – a large scaffold for me to paint the north wall over two busy weeks and to have the window I’d been thinking about for two years installed. Well pleased with the result, & surprised that I rather enjoyed the painting (I did get to listen to a lot of audiobooks). I just have to wait for winter to see the real effect of the new window.

Yes, it is a house. But it’s in better condition than it was before.

Small steps of self-improvement made for an interesting year. The most unexpected was the difference making my diet a lot healthier had on my bikepacking. I signed up to the Mega Grind keen to do 800 km of bikepacking in an area of the North Island that I’d spent little time – despite being so close to where I grew up, and not far from my first job. It certainly delivered in that respect with fantastic North Island hilly terrain, coastal view and gravel roads.

What I was not expecting was the profound difference losing five or so kilograms of unnecessary mass would do to my biking. Previously, I’d been pleased with my ~180 km/day average on the Tour Aotearoa . Suddenly, with no real difference in preparation, bike or gear carried, I finished the event averaging 250 km/day! What in the how? Carrying less mass, and being able to bike stronger for longer was a revelation that quickly had me pondering what else I may be able to achieve. I’m excited to find out. Also, I’m no longer content with a sixteen day finish on the TA – I may have to go back sooner than previously anticipated.

Just a few days later I was back in Rotorua for a completely different kind of bike event – the Singlespeed World Championships. Really it’s just a big fancy dress party of five hundred people on mountain bikes with only one gear. And beer. What’s not to like? A complete blast with friends old and new.

Which rather leaves this year to consider. Excitingly, there are plenty of new things to learn. With a few visits of family and friends on the cards, I’ll mostly stick around exploring home and the vicinity. There’s plenty more strength to be gained, all in the name of riding slightly further and a little faster to explore more new places; I’d really like to do a different bikepacking event of over a thousand kilometres.

Most definitely excited to find what this year holds, I hope it’s great for you too.

around home, bikes, family, MTB, NZ

Sibling visit

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A proposed Christmas in Napier was enough to finally get Adele and James to visit me. As it transpired, it was an early Christmas without the full complement of Pheasants. The warm dry December that allowed me to paint an exterior wall of my house at every spare moment continued for the six days they were here. It was wonderfully warm (Adele may have melted a bit) which meant we spent much time outside visiting many local attractions – many of which I’d not quite managed to get to previously.

First up, Shine Falls was about an hour drive north – the furtherest afield we’d venture during the whole stay. Situated in the Boundary Stream mainland island, I’d gotten close on previous bikepacking trips, but had never made it to the tallest falls in Hawke’s Bay.

Leaving the car, the open pasture quickly narrowed to walking up a bush clad gorge.

Purported to be an hour’s walk, the bushwalking reminded Adele and I of many such walks we did as a family when younger.

But we are fitter and stronger than we used to be; half an hour later – waterfalls. The mist and downdraft generated cooled us nicely after the warm later afternoon stroll. Pheasants don’t seem to have the “swim at every opportunity” gene, so we left that to James.

The walk down the valley only took twenty minutes so it turned out that the drive each way took longer than the entire walk! But that didn’t dampen our enthusiasm for being outdoors, discovering new sights and enjoying the native forest; there may have also been ice cream on the return journey.

Adele was determined that my house should be decorated for Christmas – as I’m not usually home for Christmas, this has never occurred to me. I managed to minimise unnecessary consumption and am quite pleased with the lights adorning my deck, the miniature tree and tinsel down the bannisters. With all the weatherboard painting my barbecue had remained neglected; but with visitors keen to cook amazingly, it made a reappearance.

The following morning, mountain bikes were assembled and loaded for a quick introduction to the local trails.

Since the trees have been cleared from Gateway, the views to work and home have really opened up. The price of that being part of the trail network is now exposed to the sun.

The tides lined up well to walk along the beach to Cape Kidnappers. Cape Kidnappers, which I’d frequently looked over to from the end of my street, marveling at the cliffs rising out of the Pacific. With a quick turnaround from mountain-biking, we rushed out the door, stopped at Clive for pies, parked at Clifton and began the nine kilometre beach walk beneath the cliffs. The day was hot, but there was sufficient breeze that it was bearable as we made good time pounding along the increasingly revealed hard sand.

Leaving Clifton and looking back around the bay towards Napier.

The cliffs did stretch a long way, but I did at least know that before deciding we should walk rather than take the tourist bus through the sheep station.

At Black Reef we saw our first gannet colony.

Followed closely with the best views of the cape we would get, as the route then left the beach to climb above the cape.

Gannets! There were, literally, thousands.

How fascinating they were as they nested, fed young fur-ball chicks, landed, partners cutely preened each other on one’s return, took off, fought and generally made quite a racket. Very much worth the long walk – well, it was a long time to be walking on a flat surface in the sun. I really noticed all the walking over the following days – it turns out just two weeks of using spare time clambering over a scaffold and not walking around the Hill has quite an effect.

Heading back to the beach to return to Clifton, Black Reef is off the point at the end of that beach.

We were pretty spent that evening, so had a restful one waiting for good friends Dan and Jacqui to arrive from New Plymouth. There ensued a Saturday of winery tours, on which I drove everyone around – which was far more enjoyable than it sounds. I did get fed plenty of tasty food and got to do another staple Hawke’s Bay activity that I’d sadly neglected over the last thirty months.

Saturday night was the aforementioned early Christmas celebration which consisted of fantastic food, predictably lame crackers, great friends and receiving the big outdoor bean bag on which I’m currently sitting typing this. Sunday morning was equally slow to start – we went back out to the Mill Block to ride a few more trails in the heat. That necessitated a stop on the way back to town to swim in a river before Jacqui and Dan left for home.

I’d been keen to show off both the views from and bike trails of Te Mata Peak, so that was Monday morning sorted. Shielded from the blazing sun on the lower half of the climb, we did at least have a bit of a breeze to cool us on the more exposed parts. The peak was crawling with cruise ship tourists, many of whom you’d think had never seen mountain bikes before judging by their amusing comments. Even on a poor-weather day I appreciate the varying views – this day we enjoyed picking out the various places we’d visited as we turned and headed down most of the trail options.

Somehow I’d forgotten than Emma and Brent have a pool; really, cooling off in there was not the real reason we visited. Lunch at Chalk and Cheese was topped off by irresistible cheese tasting, which may be almost as good as wine tasting – so much delicious cheese, we may have bought a bit. With the mercury through thirty degrees Celsius, how could I not take my guests to the oldest ice creamery in the country? It was plain to see how they’ve been trading for ninety-odd years – delicious.

Somewhere in here I think there was another Napier Hill walk (still one of my favourite things to do out my front door), but a week later those six days are a bit of a blur of activity. The final day of the visit was spent packing bikes before a final art deco drive and tasty lunch on a patio down at West Quay (a kilogram of mussels, you say? Don’t mind if I do) – nice to do that as I so often ride home from work and see people drinking at Shed 2 and think how lovely it looks.

Just like that it was time for the trip to airport, plans for future trips were made and goodbyes said. It was worth the wait, Hawke’s Bay definitely turned on cracking weather which allowed much activity with dear family.