Ten Days in the new Old West

There was no wind, no seagulls begging for crumbs, only the faint drone of car engines on the street thirty metres back.

I stood on the shores of Lake Wanaka. The arctic-blue water stretched out, fading in the distance as it met New Zealand’s Southern Alps that dominated the grey skyline. The hazy fog of the afternoon rain was slowly lifting, revealing the sparkling-white peaks of Mount Alta as the Sun began its final descent into the horizon.

The gothic grandeur of the scene reminded me of trips to London to see the Houses of Parliament. It was spellbinding, almost perfect. Almost. There was just one problem.

I was visiting South Island in the middle of winter and the cold permeated through everything: my house, my car, my sleeping bag.
It was inescapable, hiding in every nook and cranny like a Scooby-Doo villain. To stay still at night was borderline suicidal. I had to leave.
The next evening I was determined to spend longer taking in the sunset. I forced my family to walk slightly further up from where last time, desperately moving to try and cling on to any last kernels of heat in our bodies.

That is when we found it. The Holy Grail.

Kai Whakapai was a small pub along the open road that ran parallel to the Lake. It was fairly innocuous, with a simple, albeit empty, arrangement of plain seats, tables and benches outside that were made of cheap, plastic-like wood.

Inside there was a small, petite bar with a smattering of bunting, trophies and banners. Music played quietly in the background. Barely anyone was inside. In fact, it would have been just another bar, but for its little outdoor heating area.

It was the most glorious ten feet of pavement on this planet.

Whoever installed the outdoor heating at this small, quiet pub in the middle of a mountain range will never know the joy they gave me.
The hazy orange glow of the flickering, fluorescent tubes provided me with warmth and comfort whilst I gazed out at another glorious sunset over Lake Wanaka.

It was the kind of warmth you feel when you went out to play in the snow, and you came back inside after an hour or two and your mother had hot chocolate ready and waiting. It just filled you from head to toe.

Like Scooby, I had unearthed the final clue to thwart the villainous cold. Kai, in any other part of the world, would get discarded as average and mediocre. Here though, at the feet of the Southern Alps, it was just perfect.