Martinborough is a little Kiwi town an hour east of Wellington over a winding mountain road surrounded by vineyards, olive groves, sheep pastures, and a wild Pacific coastline. The town was laid out by an Irish settler named Martin in the 1800’s with the streets forming the pattern of the Union Jack. The town square reminds us of what Sonoma might have looked like 50 years ago.
The weather was cold and drizzly. Our first afternoon in town we stopped at the local butcher to purchase 4 inch thick lamb chops ($12 US per pound) before deciding to leave them in the fridge and go to the movies. The local cinema was showing a French Canadian flick called Incendies in French with subtitles. The theatre was a little larger than a living room with big comfortable chairs and a little table between each two seats to put your glass of local Martinborough wine. The movie was intriguing and weirdly depressing and uplifting at the same time. Go see it if you can find it.
The next day our Welsh friends Huw and Celia called to say they were coming to join us as the weather was bad all over the North Island and they were scrapping their previous plan to visit the beaches on the Coromandel Peninsula. With the rain coming down we decided to drive along the coast. The wind and rain made the rugged coasts look and feel particularly formidable. Our goal of climbing the lighthouse at Cape Paliser was thwarted when the road was crossed by a rushing stream. We looked for a way to hike across the stream, but eventually gave up and drove back to the town of Lake Ferry for a bowl of hot spicy pumpkin soup, hearty beef pie, and a huge fish sandwich eaten by a roaring log fire. Wishing to walk off the calories we head out over the volcanic sand dunes to where the mighty waves were breaking on the shore. As Carolyn stood waiting to have her picture taken, a giant wave came rolling in and grabbed her . She fell to the sand with the water tugging at her from all sides trying to pull her back into the abyss of Cook Straight. Tom, who had taken off like a little spring lamb running from the vicious sheep dog when he saw the giant breaker about to engulf him, turned now to rescue his darling. As he reached her soaking wet bedraggled body Carolyn summoned up her last vestiges of strength to lift herself from the oncoming rush of another wave and we dragged each other to safety.
After drying ourselves in the camper van and changing clothes we drove back to the campsite to lick our wounds, dry our clothes, and wait for Huw and Celia. After greeting our Welsh pals with stories of our adventures and glasses of wine, we wandered into Martinborough for a delicious Thai meal and stories of their travels and exploits at the bridge clubs of New Zealand.
