I was up again at the unreasonably hour of 8.30, enjoying an early breakfast before motoring into Nelson on another beautifully warm, sunny day to meet cousin Kev for a free tour of my old employer, the Nelson Evening Mail, but alas, the Karamea Wildman must have received a more tempting offer from a young blond, or possibly even a young blonde, and I was left quietly sobbing on a public street corner, alone and unloved. By way of compensation, I repaired to Starbucks with my trusty netbook for some blogging, emailing and internetting, while listening to one of those charming American tourists with a foghorn voice demanding a coffee that was half this and half that, then coming back to get it remade this way and that way with a bit of something else on the side. They must have got it right though, or maybe that being an American company he thought they deserved extra points for trying, as he announced to most of Trafalgar Street that it was the first decent coffee he had been able to find since coming to Noo Zeeland. I imagine everyone else in earshot silently joined with me in thinking that he should piss off back where he came from as soon as possible to better enjoy whatever syrupy bile passes for coffee in the United States of the Centre of the Universe. Fortunately there were no Americans at the Rooftop Cafe where I had lunch, just one displaced Trans-Tasmanian who was overjoyed with his sandwiches, chicken roll, mini quiche and mini pie, but made no public comment either for or against. After lunch I drove out to Richmond where I printed out selected photos for Mum in the instant photo machine at the mall, and then went on a bit of a cross country drive. I started with the birthplace of Nelson's must famous son, Lord Rutherford, the man who split the atom, at Brightwater. Then I drove west along the inland road, stopping for photos of sweeping views of Tasman Bay from on top of the Moutere.
After a short pit stop in Upper Moutere, I cut north along Haley Road to the coast and detoured to see historic Settlers Cottage at Mahana, brilliantly restored and brought to life with period furniture, effects and mannequins.
I stopped at Tasman for more photos of the scenic coastline and I stopped again at eccentric Jester House for a chat with the eels, then had a brief look around Mapua before negotiating yet another in the seemingless endless series of roadworks on the coast road, and shot back into Richmond for a pint or three at the Sprig and Fern with Wilf Harvey, Rex Strawbridge et al, and Grasshopper's mate Clint, whom I totally failed to recognise until after he left. Undismayed, I picked up some world class fish and chips from the shop next door and headed back for a delightful dinner with Mum, watching the news on TV and settling back for another quiet night of netbooking, writing and reading. The days are running past at an alarming rate, but I am looking forward to going home as well. See you soon family! Woo woo woo, Maddie!
