7 January 2025

Last night, we photographed the buildings on the east side of Thames (THAMES!) Street, this morning I, put my jacket on over my t-shirt/PJ top, put my slacks on, and went out at 5.55am and photographed the buildings on the west side. And the east side. And the waves rolling in. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky above the town, just a thick line of it along the horizon. I was out there to see the heritage-style lights get switched off. In other words, I was out there long enough that I had to let myself out of the hotel through a locked door, but the automatic door was unlocked in time let me back in.

And Pen didn’t even realise that I’d gone.

I don’t know what cultivar of pōhutukawa they’ve got down here, but ever here in Oamaru, well away from its natural zone, I’ve seen flowering trees… In January!

I came back and did some blogging, but still didn’t manage to get through all my photos from the TranzAlpine.

Once Pen was awake and had showered, I had my shower and then we both went down to the restaurant for breakfast. I had porridge.

The Brydone Hotel is clearly made up of two buildings, a very opulent, palatial front, which houses the restaurant and hotel reception, (and I don’t know what upstairs) and the rear which is more modern, but houses most of the hotel rooms. It was a lovely place, one that finally gave us enough towels (although another hand towel would have been appreciated); and the only complaints that I would have were that the toilet wasn’t a very efficient flusher, and the toilet roll holder was attached to the handbasin cabinet so it was side on to the toilet. This meant that when you went to pull off your square(s) of toilet paper, you would pull the whole roll off the holder and send it rolling along the floor.

The hotel was good enough to mind our bags while we decided to make the most of our last few hours in Oamaru.

The last time that Pen was here, she stood on the top of the cliff overlooking the penguin colony, and vowed to come back sometime, which she did thirteen years later. Because of this, she was keen on taking the path back to the top of the cliff. It was quite funny letting an Englishwoman show me around in my own country. Except…

Steampunk playground

We got to the arena in the penguin colony where we’d been last night (and got the daylight photos in yesterday’s blog), only to discover that the way onwards was blocked. Pen asked in the shop if the track was still accessible and we were told that it was closed for the breeding shags and shearwaters. The lady behind the desk was very helpful, though, and gave us a map that showed the longer way to the cliff. This was an option, but it was longer and via a number of roads, and, although we set off with the intention of doing it, or at least walking until my watch’s timer told us to turn around, we came to realise that we just wouldn’t have time.

So, as it was fine and warm, we mooched around Oamaru instead. Checking out the variety of shops, crafts, and seeing what activities were on offer.

I enjoyed Oamaru except for one thing. It just made me so mad at the opportunities that Thames is missing out on. We’ve got the historic buildings, and we should be utilising them to the maximum. But we don’t. We just moan about the town. And when I attempt to do something on a small scale to improve things, the idea is either dismissed or changed into something totally different to what I envisaged. (And less successful.)

When it was time to head for the bus stop we returned to the hotel and got our bags, before I set out to find a pharmacy… And forgot my hat, I returned to get it, only to find that Pen already had it in her gear for me. When I set out proper ahead of Pen, I found the pharmacy and bought some Gin Gins. These are ginger lollies and are supposed to be good for your stomach when travelling. Hopefully, I won’t need them. However, there was a bakery near to where we caught the bus, so I bought what was called a “muesli bar”, which, I was assured, wasn’t sweet. It had golden syrup in it.

This time, because we were getting on board mid-journey, there weren’t any seats together, so I sat about five rows back and Pen about eight.

There was one bloke that I was glaring at inwardly for vaping at the bus stop, but he scored one of the front non-Gold seats before me and then, and this put him up in my estimation, offered his seat to an elderly man who looked like he’d had a stroke, and headed to the back of the bus.

It is the law in New Zealand that, if fitted, you must wear seatbelts. Most, if not all, of the InterCity buses have seatbelts. (It feels odd not wearing them nowadays.) I had mine on and had just about nodded off when all of a sudden, when we were on a downward incline, the driver had to put his brakes on for roadworks. Everyone kind of slid forward which, as I said to the lady next to me, is exactly the reason why you should wear seatbelts.

The other time I’d nearly dozed off (it was hot in the bus) and was woken unexpectedly, was when someone sneezed.  

And it was just as well that I woke up, as the woman next to me got out before Dunedin, and I had to get out of my seat, dragging my camera bag that had been at my feet with me, to let her out. I did wave to Pen, but by the time she’d worked out what she needed to do to gather her gear together, the bus was moving again.

So I had both seats to myself for the rest of the trip.

Our stay in Dunedin was the Victoria Hotel and upon arrival we were proudly informed that we had been upgraded. This meant that instead of a standard twin room we had two king beds. (I asked Pen if she wanted the “window seat” or the “toilet seat” – i.e. the bed by the window or the bed closer to the toilet. It wasn’t until I said it that I realised what I was saying.) And a full quota of towels, which made a lovely change.

But… (There’s always a but, isn’t there?)

We were sitting here, blogging, and could hear something that sounded like the shower dripping. As neither of us had used it, this seemed unlikely, but Pen checked it out and there was no evidence of any water leakage. But, when standing in the bathroom, it seemed to us that the dripping was coming from the ceiling. Concerned that this meant that there was a leakage in the floor above (and me with visions from TV series of something nefarious happening in a bath which isn’t discovered until the water overflows to the floor below), I rang reception who said they’d check it out.

Of course, that was when the dripping sound stopped.

We didn’t hear any more about it.

Pen’s suitcase, which she, naturally, had bought in England, was getting a blown tyre. That is, the covering over the wheel was slipping off. (The irony is that the hotel’s right next door to a Bridgestone Tyre repair place. We did talk about asking them for help, but I don’t think they deal with plastic tyres that are only about 50 millimetre in diameter.) The question was, how to fix it. The best we could come up with was duct tape, so when we went shopping for food we tried to find some. We didn’t, but the hotel gave us some and a loan of the scissors. We carefully made repairs, but goodness knows how long it would last.

While we were shopping for food, I bought some tweezers. My brand new drink bottle with Virgil Tracy and Kally on it, has a lid that doesn’t seal properly. The company I bought it from are sending a replacement to home, but that’s not a lot of use. I think there was probably an O-ring that was meant to seal the bottle, but this had slipped and I, not knowing where it belonged and being mid-doing something more important, had put it where I thought it should be. But now I think I’m wrong and I wanted the tweezers to try to extract it.

Fail.

Following our shopping and repairs, we went for look around. We called into the local i-SITE and asked what we could do tomorrow. They had “Support our local hospital” badges and T-shirts, so I bought a badge for $5.00. As the problem is with our government suddenly deciding that they don’t have the money to build the hospital that the people of Otago and Southland had been promised, I took a postcard stating my opposition to their plans to downgrade Dunedin Hospital (amongst other things) for sending to the Health Minister – Dr Shane Reti.

I also bought a $10.50 “Mackenzie” coaster for Carolyn McKenzie, to say thank you for watering my garden.

On the way back, we realised that the flags on the police station were half-mast. We had a discussion about whether it was an error (we could only see one at that stage), when I remembered that there was a police officer in Nelson who’d been run over by someone who “used the car as a weapon.”

That’s so sad for all concerned.

After that, realising that I only had yoghurt for breakfast, I went back to supermarket and bought porridge and a couple of bottles Zing water drops – including a flavour I don’t think we have in Thames.

I’d booked a table at Cobb & Co in Dunedin’s Railway Station for 6.30 and we made it there at 6.34. (I was even threatening Pen that I was going to turn the light off if she didn’t leave in 30 seconds.) Not only were we four minutes late. We were wet. It had been fine all day, and decided start raining just before we left the hotel. I was glad that my slacks were quick drying, even if my shoes weren’t.

It’s been years since I’ve been to a Cobb & Co and I was determined that I was going to have a Cobb Schnitzel. And I did. Yum. Pen had an adult sized Traffic Light. We used the provided pencils to play the games on the back of the menus. People there to celebrate birthdays got the special treatment.

Are these bringing back memories?

Then, how about the fact, that the food is now brought out by robots? And that the children’s play area (which, to be honest, I don’t remember) is now all i-Pads? This bit of astonishing information was supplied to me by a dad who, with his adult male friend/brother(?) was taking his five-year-old daughter out for her birthday. (He took his son to Cobb & Co six months ago and they had toys then, so he was gobsmacked.)

But, I have to say that I felt pretty happy sitting in the Dunedin Railway Station, eating a Cobb & Co meal, and with ABBA Playing in the background. The only way that things could be better was if I had dry feet.

By the time we’d had our fill (finishing up with dessert – I had Chocolate Indulgence and Pen donuts that were more like the holes), the rain had eased off enough that we didn’t get so wet walking back to the hotel. But we still gave the three fire appliances that passed us a wide berth.

Pen’s photos. I don’t know why it’s got the $CoMmEnt comment on them.

Steps = 23223

Kilometres = 16.0