Ross, an old family friend from Shropshire, moved to New Zealand a few years back so we decided to pay him and his girlfriend Ceci a visit. The campervan and us rolled into the agricultural heart of NZ, Ashburton, and into the curious world of Ross Appleby. Free from the constraints of family to put him straight Ross has cultivated an alternative world in which to live.
For instance, Ross has a toilet in his lounge. 'Rescued' from the garden he placed the porcelain loo in the corner of the room - taking the liberty of fitting a powerful spotlight (artistically emanating from the u-bend) and a semi-transparent toilet seat. This creative use of space has not gone down well with Ceci, who would understandably rather see it removed but, in fairness to Ross, the soft blue glow grows on you. In fact, I might just fit one myself.
Another example of Ross' world is the absence of Christmas spirit. Again, Ceci seems keen to get involved in the festive cheer so it was with some bemusement on her part when we answered her question "when do you buy your Christmas tree in England?" with the answer "early December". Ross had informed her that it was tradition to buy the tree on Christmas Eve and remove it on Boxing Day. He genuinely seemed gutted that his masterplan had been rumbled. Bear in mind that Chloe is the living embodiment of Christmas and you've got a great battle on your hands.
On the same day that we bought 40 Christmas lights for their miniature Christmas tree, Ross took Chloe and I on a farm tour. He's got a great set-up down there and we learnt a lifetimes worth of crop knowledge (as well as covering off the huge irrigation systems which I had become slightly obsessed with on our travels - the centre-pivot a personal favourite).
Ashburton itself is a farming metropolis and not a lot else gets a look in - directions to their house included "turn right at PGG Wrightson, you cant miss it, just keep your eyes peeled for the worlds largest combine harvester: the Claas Lexion 580". A quick tour of the town included the site of the Church. Not the Church itself, because that had been towed away a few months previous. Not enough demand apparently. Another highlight was being ID´d for beer in the supermarket. Given the obvious visible signs of ageing I suffer from this was a source of great pride.
We enjoyed a few relaxing days in their company and they really looked after us. We owe them a great deal for looking after us so well. Ross' world was great fun and I look forward to seeing Ross and Ceci when they are next in England. Hopefully, by then I will probably have the toilet-lamp in operation.
We rolled into Christchurch for a few un-noteworthy days before taking on the mammoth journey to St Lucia. Final stop before heading to the airport was the campervan depot where we were charged an unmentionable amount of money for a replacement windscreen due to 2 chips in our windscreen that couldn't be repaired. It left a bit of a sour taste in a mouth which went well with the foul smell of my arm (which had been lowered into a septic tank to retrieve the holding tank lid that had fallen in when I emptied it). I swore Chloe to secrecy on this little titbit but on reflection it seems a shame to omit it. Despite these late ordeals that campervan remains one of best travel investments we have made.
