March 1 to 4
Paraparaumu
March 1
Paraparaumu
This is the fourth anniversary of my heart attack in Melbourne. I managed to survive the day unscathed.
A lovely morning outside. I set off to walk to the bus stop outside the village gates. Just before I got there, a car drew up and an elderly couple asked if I was heading to the station and would I like a lift. I accepted gratefully and was soon waiting for the train - although I was slightly un nerved when I realised just how much difficulty my driver was having reading the indicator board. I'm not sure he would have passed an eye test!
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The train arrived a few minutes late and took me into Porirua, just over half an hour way. It isn't an exciting city with some relatively ugly buildings.
I was on a mission, however, and made my way to Kaizan, the cafe at Pataka, the city's museum and art gallery, where I met Michael, an old work colleague, for a two hour coffee and chat.
He drove me up the road to Whitby, the suburb where he lives and where I was to meet several others for lunch. They all arrived and we sat in the bright sunshine outside a cafe, drinking coffee, eating lunch and gossiping for another couple of hours.
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Wayne then drove me back down the hill to Plimmerton Station, about five kilometres, where I caught the train. At Paekakariki, the penultimate stop, we were thrown off the train and onto a replacement bus. Crowded wouldn't do justice to the situation. If I don't catch covid after that, I never will. I decided to walk from Paraparaumu Station to Valerie's a couple of kilometres, a decision justified when I was almost half way there before the bus from the station overtook me.
Back at Valerie's, a family party was assembling, with wine, cheese etc. We all gossiped for a couple of hours, the party broke up and bed called.
March 2
Paraparaumu
At breakfast time there were some huge black clouds over the sea and even some drizzle. I almost thought of removing my shorts and exchanging them for jeans.
Valerie drove me up to the charity shop, where she works on Thursday mornings and I crossed the main road to the railway station. It was still cloudy, with occasional spots of drizzle but warm enough. I took the train one stop to the end of the line, Waikanae.
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First stop was the butcher's, now fenced off by road works, much to the chagrin of the butcher. It is one of the best in the region, so worth seeking out. I bought all sorts of meat for the weekend and left it there so that I wouldn't need to carry it round all morning.
I had hoped to spend some time in the gallery, a good one. Unfortunately, it is being demolished and the temporary one is tiny.
Finding a bacon sandwich in New Zealand is almost impossible. They don't understand the concept. I did manage two slices of toast, each with a rasher of bacon on top. A travesty, really. With a reasonable long black, however, it was a passable elevenses.
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The square has some reasonable art work, a stage for public performances, and quite a lot of seating. In the drizzle, however, it wasn't very inviting so I caught an earlier train than planned and returned to Paraparaumu, where I could shelter in the shopping mall with another coffee and a "free" chocolate.
At the appropriate time, I arrived at the hospice shop where I discovered that the quiet afternoon had suddenly become busy. Valerie had been summoned to Wellington for a scan and then back to Paraparaumu for an injection. We made it to both with a mixture of car, train and bus, with a maximum of stress and a minimum of time to spare. We needed an evening in front of the TV with a takeaway to recover. The car trip did involve my first daylight trip on the new(ish) Transmission Gully. Quite an impressive piece of road.
March 3
Paraparaumu
Rather a dull day with some faint drizzle. Valerie drove to the Art Society, where she went in to paint and I disembarked and walked into Raumati. I again crossed the railway with care and reached the beach. This time, however, I turned South, the opposite direction to Tuesday.
It was quite humid but breezy, so a full fleece was a bit warm but I needed to wear it. There was low cloud over the hills and thick cloud over the sea.
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I walked along the almost empty beach for nearly half an hour, then decided to switch to the road as the tide was coming in quite fast. After four and a half kilometres, I stopped at the cafe for a good coffee. The building opposite has now morphed into a "takeaway, catering and cooking classes" operation. I must look them up on their web site.
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Rather than walk back along the beach, I went in the opposite direction, towards the expressway and the walkway back to Raumati Village.
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| The cycle path ... | ... to Paraparaumu |
I followed this for the couple of miles back to my starting point. I met a few other walkers and a few cyclists but it was quiet. I reached the Art Society on schedule at about noon.
We then embarked on a food shopping expedition. The main comment I have to make is that food prices in New Zealand have risen very steeply and most of the fruit and vegetables that I saw would have been cheaper in the UK.
In the evening, we drove a short way to a bbq with some friends. I ate and drank far too much and had a very good time with several people I hadn't seen for a very long time.
March 4
Paraparaumu
Brian arrived to drive us up the road to Springfield in Te Horo, the cookery school run by Ruth Pretty. The new expressway made the journey more complex rather than simpler. We had to drive to the outskirts of Otaki and then double back to Te Horo on the old main road.
We started in one of the demonstration rooms, about 50 of us, and watched as Ruth and Ali prepared several large lumps of meat. We then accompanied Paul around his vegetable garden, source of several of the salads we were going to have.
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We returned to sit outside in the increasing sunshine to watch the meal being cooked on the bbq. We sat around for about three hours, eating excellent food and drinking fine wine.
By mid afternoon, we were all stuffed to the gills and feeling tired. Brian came to collect us and drove us home, where we collapsed on the sofa for the evening.