Day 7:  Pleasant Point to Fairlie

07 December 2010
48 km (29 mi)

Last night at our cozy cabin we did laundry.  The difficulty of doing laundry when it’s raining out is that there’s then nowhere for it to dry.  We made do with stringing a line between the bunk beds.  This worked great until you needed to get out of the cabin, e.g., to make dinner or do more laundry.  Tall people could step over the line, but us shorties had to limbo under.  Limboing is all the more challenging when your thigh muscles are beyond sore.  This is made all the better by a glass of red wine.

Once we had the laundry all sorted this morning, we donned our rain gear and headed for town.  We still owed the holiday park proprietor our $36 and we needed to pick up a few items at the supermarket.  Morning shopping is the best, for Gina often picks up a treat for us, some guilty pleasure we can enjoy for second breakfast.  This is typically a surprise for me, though sometimes the greasy bag she hides it in provides a hint.  Funny, the simple pleasures one enjoys while bike touring.

We rode in the spitting rain toward Fairlie, a town that our Rough Guide suggested was not worthy of a stop.  We were ignoring its advice as our map suggested we should indeed stop there, unless we wanted to ride another 40+ km into the mountains and over a pass before getting to the next holiday park.  We are not that hardcore.  Or really, at this point, that fit.  Fairlie it would be.

While on the road to Fairlie, we learned a valuable countryside, shoulderless-road tip.  When you see a “Pilot Car” whiz past you, yours is not to question why but rather to get the heck off the road as fast as possible.  And if you see a second “Pilot Car” whiz past, and it’s tooting you a greeting, that’s NOT a greeting.  It’s a get the heck off the road NOW.  And if you look over your shoulder as you’re braking to a skidding stop, don’t be surprised if you see an entire house coming at you.  And be glad you got the heck off the road NOW.

Also while on the road to Fairlie, I noted that we were, pretty much at all times, being watched.  Not by cops or farmers or Big Brother, but by pigs, sheep, cows, and deer.  There was never really a moment in time pedalling through this part of Mackenzie Country that there weren’t several eyes gazing upon us.

In turn, we kept our eyes on the amazing scenery starting to unfold around us.  Mountains or at least big hills in every direction.  And everything green.  Simply fantastic.  And the town of Fairlie?  Super cute.  And the people of Fairlie?  Super friendly.  And the Holiday Park in Fairlie?  Super sweet and with FREE internet.  I don’t know what that Rough Guide author was talking about.  We think Fairlie is the bomb.  Maybe he’s just trying to keep it a secret?

Day 6:  Geraldine to Pleasant Point

06 December 2010
28 km (17 mi)

We woke up this morning to blue skies and sunshine.  Sadly, those conditions did not last long past our morning coffee and cafe with free WiFi.  Well, free with purchase.  But that’s about as close to free WiFi as we’ve found so far in New Zealand.

We planned for today to be a short day on the bike.  Feeling like we need to give our bums and bodies a bit of a rest before pushing (which could be quite literally, pushing) into the mountains tomorrow.  Given the weather conditions, this turned out to be a good plan.  Before we left Geraldine, we donned our rain jackets, rain pants, and long-fingered gloves for the first time this trip.  It was spitting and the wind was picking up.  A passerby gave us a handy tip – “Head north and you’ll have the wind on your bums” – unfortunately, we were headed south.  I guess we could have headed back north but that’s possum country and we don’t need to see another boot-full of that for some time.  Perhaps even a lifetime.

The gale force winds that met us head on as we wobbled our way south were pretty intense.  I believe these are “the southerlies” that Kiwis speak of with pride and cycle toursists with dread.  It’s the kind of wind that forces your head down, your heart rate up, and your wheel to nearly touch your partner’s wheel in front of you.  That’s provided you’re lucky enough to be in the back.  I find the view there, on a super windy day, to be more to my liking.  Who really needs to see the road ahead?  When I was out in front, which wasn’t for long, the wind was so loud I could hear nothing but it roaring past my ears.  Probably similar to the last sound a goose hears before it gets sucked into a jet engine.  Okay, that was a bit graphic of a comparison.  I still have possum visions in my head.  I hope those and the weather clear up soon.

In spite of the elements, we did enjoy our ride south, given the quiet country roads we found ourselves upon.

When we reached Pleasant Point, it was less than pleasant out, so top order of the afternoon was to find the local Holiday Park.  It was kinda-sorta on a map at the i-Site (Information) board, but we weren’t too sure if it was what we were looking for.  You see, we’ve grown a bit accustomed to having our fully-loaded parks, complete with kitchen blocks, hot showers, and washing machines.  And the picture on the map showed just a tent.  This was worrisome.  Gina opted to take the direct approach and go ask someone.  Good thing she did.  Turned out the Holiday Park was a kilometer outside of town and it was the corner store at which she was directed to by the gas station attendant that had the key.  Who would have guessed?

Off we pedaled to pick out our cabin.  This is our new thing while we ride – discussing what the cozy cabin at the end of the day might look like and how much it will cost.  Today’s is a total bargain – $36.  This includes hot showers that do not require any coins, laundry that does not require any soap, and a kitchen to cook in that does not require us to dirty any of our camping pots and pans.  To us, this is the golden ticket.  And given that cold, southerly wind that hasn’t ceased blowing, it’s worth every penny.