Ranfurly via Thumb

Well, I gambled and the wind won. After my last post I made my way back to an empty campground. The only thing left was my flattened tent with broken pole. I had secured everything really well so nothing blew away and my stuff inside was still mostly dry. I really knew better and should have packed right away early. Minus 10 for stupidity. Anyway, I didn’t have to think about what to do next. I just hastily packed, went to the community cooking shelter to get somewhat sorted, and moved on. I had no choice but to hitch hike.

My first ride was a short one. About a mile or so to the visitors center turn off. It was with a group of Chinese in a large camper RV. At the turn off I caught another ride within minutes. My second ride was with Jens, a German the same age as me, who has been living in Montreal for over 20 years. He was traveling alone and headed the direction I wanted to go. I wanted to get out of the wind and rain if possible. Nearby accommodation was impossible. We went East.

Jens said I was welcome to ride with him the rest of the day and he pulled out a tablet with an app for all the campgrounds in NZ. We found a nice campground north of Omaru near Herbert and decided to stay there. Jens is on an around the world trip. Kind of a soul searching sort of journey. After all the general small talk he told me more about the reason for taking time off. He had been married to a woman and then discovered he would rather be married to a man. He had recently broken up with his partner of 11 years. It was a little odd hearing his story as I am not gay and can’t relate. I don’t care what someones preference is, however, it can be a little awkward when you don’t suspect it. Anyway, we had plenty of other things to talk about in relation to travel, etc, and he was really helping me out with the lift.

There have been a few other times that I have met up with solo male travelers that gravitate towards me only to soon find out that they are gay. It’s always a little weird at first. Ultimately because I rarely if ever meet a woman who would like my company traveling. To be honest more men have shown interest in me than women. Now that’s depressing.

Anyway, Jens and I arrived at the campground around 6:30 in the evening under cloudy but still skies. I unfolded my tent to find that the fabric actually held up fine except for one tiny tear in the nylon and two smallish holes in the mosquito netting. The main aluminum support pole had bent and split in two. It must have been one heck of a gust. I needed some tools.

I saw a couple with a van who seemed have a lot of stuff. It turned out to be a guy from Manchester, England with his cute girlfriend from Lithuania. They had a tool box and were happy to let me use it. Pliers, wire, some over priced duct tape, a little bending, cigarette lighter, trial, error, and success. Good thing I had an aluminum pole shaft splint just in case. I got the tent back up with enough time for drying before it got dark.

The tent held up well overnight and I stayed dry when it rained. The rain stopped with sunrise and I was really able to get sorted. I assessed all my stuff and appeared to have everything. The tent repairs look like they will hold for the rest of the trip.

Jens and I took time packing up. He then drove me a little further down the road to Hampden where we stopped for coffee and breakfast at a really good cafe. We sat and talked for about an hour before parting ways. He was headed back down to Omaru to see penguins. Jens was extremely nice and helpful. I feel very lucky to have met him and it made for an easy time of reorganizing and repairing my tent.

So, back to riding the thumb. It took me a good hour to get out of Hampden. I was on the main highway between Christchurch of Dunedin. My first ride was a short one with a rough middle aged Kiwi that gave me an earful about what he thought of Donald Trump. My second ride was another short one with a Korean guy at the start of his 8 day vacation. I think he was kind of wishing I was going his way as I think he wanted company and like a lot of Asians I also think he wanted to work on his English. I got out at Palmerston.

That’s when the time warp began. All of a sudden I was 24 and it was 1989 again. The first time I visited New Zealand. Anyway, an older gentleman in an older looking tweed suit pulled over as I was walking out of Palmerston. He rolled down the window. I looked in. He had a sandwich in one hand and the steering wheel in the other. He asked if I would like a ride. I said I was headed to Ranfurly which is where he was headed.

Thirty years ago a foreign tourist was a curiosity to a Kiwi. Now a foreign tourist is just another foreign tourist but this guy, by the name of Steve, showed some of that old curiosity. He had questions. I had questions, and he was more than happy to tell me everything about what we were seeing as we passed.

As with everywhere in New Zealand the countryside is absolutely beautiful. He told me about a large gold mining operation in the area. It kind peaked my interest so he decided we should take the long way to Ranfurly so I could see it. Up through the hills. The pastures mixed with sheep and rocks reminded me of Ireland. A little further the hills started to look like English Moors. As we got close to the mine it reminded me of the High Plains of America. New Zealand is so varied, so diverse, in it’s natural beauty.

I couldn’t really fill you in on the specifics but let me tell you Frasers pit is one hell of big hole in the ground. I’ve never seen a gold mine like it. The heavy equipment at the bottom looked like ants scratching the earth. A the bottom of the pit is a tunnel that goes deep below sea level to following a seam. The top of the pit is over 500 meters above sea level.

After stopping to view the mine Steve continued with his commentary on everything we passed. He’s and older gentleman that lives in Dunedin and worked as a general surgeon before moving into more administrative duties. He was on a day trip to Ranfurly for a meeting. When we arrived he dropped me at tourist information located on a short main street. Of course I gave him a big Thank You!

Ranfurly is a small agricultural town set in a broad flat valley surrounded by mountains in the distance. It’s off the main tourist track and makes for a nice place to pass through on a scenic drive. There’s the Otago rail trail which is popular for cyclist but other than that or a coffee break there’s really no reason to stop. That’s why I decided to stay a night.

I inquired at the tourist office where I might find a cheap single room. The lady called the local backpackers hostel which is an old post office that’s been converted. She asked if they had availability and got a quick yes. For about $37 I got my own private room with common area, kitchen, and shared bathroom facilities. At 7 pm I think I should have taken a dorm as I’m the only person here. That’s how it was in 1989. I’d turn up anywhere, get a dorm, and have a good chance of having the room if not the whole place to myself.

The Old Post Office Backpackers is run by an older Kiwi Couple who are super nice and friendly. It’s only the second hostel I’ve stayed at during this trip that’s be run by Kiwis. Usually they are run by foreigners which was not the case in 1989. Back then they were all locally owned and run by Kiwis. Today reminded me of the New Zealand I first visited.

After getting situated at the hostel I went for a run, took a shower, had the host do my laundry for a small fee, and checked out the town. Well, town is pretty dead. There is one really good cafe that closes at 6 pm, a hotel bar with farmers drinking Speight’s beer, a couple of small grocery stores, and an Indian run restaurant that opens at 5 pm. Tomorrow morning I’ll go for a run on the rail trail and hitch on a little further.