At the end of the Bay

 Collingwood

Saturday 20 January

Once again, I am first to awaken. I quietly made my morning coffee, trying not to disturb Saffy as it was barely 6 am. When I had drunk all my coffee and used the loo, I decide to bravely venture down to the beach and watch the sunrise. I gently sneaked out the door of our motel unit and walked towards the beach. The whole town was sleeping apart from the staff in the Courthouse Café which was, as Saffy declared on our arrival, “ a new café in the old Courthouse, how quaint.”  “That will be OUR café,” I added, “ after all, it is just across the street.”  And much to our delight, we did look directly on to it from the back door of our unit. There delicious aromas of hot bread, warm cake and either meat pies or sausage rolls wafting towards me as I scurried past to get to the beach and my longed-for sunrise. Would there be anyone else at the beach, I thought to myself. Or would I be the lone watcher of a fiery sunrise?

I was the lone watcher on the beach but after half an hour, with my camera ready in my hand and several false starts from the sun attempting to pierce the heavy clouds, I admitted defeat and decide that there would only be a sun-glow not a rise this morning from the sun. Undeterred, I took some photos and a few short videos that would later be made into a vlog, then  I had a quick paddle in the slightly chilly ocean. The hills were still shrouded by impenetrable clouds but I captured a few shards of a rainbow so that gave me hope for the coming days. I continued to walk along the beach once again murmuring to myself, “where am I? where am I going?” (the Saffy Donut mantra) as I truly did not know, but it was warm and the glow of the rising sun threw a marmalade hue upon the sand as I made my way towards a lush outcropping of native bush. I eventually found the end of a different road that would lead me back to town but from a new direction. I strode along this road, singing good morning to the local residents who were just emerging from their houses, sitting on decks or benches, enjoying a morning beverage or breakfast. I managed to grab a shot of  the gorgeous dahlia bed trumpeting colour against the glowering early morning skies. I was beginning to feel  a bit hungry so quickened my pace back to our unit. People were moving around outside the other units when I got back with some people packing their vehicles and preparing to leave. I shared my sunrise disappointment with Saffy whereby she chuckled and suggested that maybe the next morning might prove more spectacular.

After our breakfast, Saffy set about studying and writing her final assignment for her Masters in creative writing. She had taken over the whole top floor of our unit, setting up her “office” on one of the beds. I was relegated to downstairs as I woke up so bloody early and I needed to be close to the kettle for brewing my morning café. I went off in search of a proper coffee plunger from the hotel manager and was delighted to find a big red one.  After a few hours we decided it was now time to visit our friendly neighbourhood café where we were told by the server that they were closing early because today the annual A & P Show was being held in Takaka and the staff were being given the afternoon off to attend. We were delighted to hear they were having the afternoon off and wished them well at the show. Besides which, we only wanted  cake and coffee. I chose a large slice of apple and rhubarb crumble cake which we shared along with very strong but delicious coffees. For me to find coffee “strong” is most unusual and I felt that I had met my match and looked forward to drenching myself with this strong brew the next day. The cake was delicious, with both of us wishing we’d gotten two pieces and bugger sharing.

The rest of the day was spent lazing around in our motel unit with me deciding to resubscribe to Netflix so I could binge watch some decent dramas as the TV  in our unit provided only a handful of dismal channels. Before dinner, I went for a walk up the steepest hill in town to see if could find a lookout point with a panoramic view of the Bay. It took me some time to discover where the track was to the lookout point and by then I was tired and hungry but at least I now knew where to go on my next exploration. Saffy and I enjoyed dinner by the estuary that evening, and also a glass of rather nice wine from Nelson.  The sun was now a roaring ball of fire and is it sank behind the dark and towering hills that guarded the estuary, we raised our glasses to us and the end of our third day in the Bay.

 

Pt#2- Highway to Collingwood

 Collingwood

 FRIDAY 19 JANUARY

It was extraordinary being back in “The Bay”. The air was warm and clean whilst the summer rain felt soothing on our tired skin. Once we had breakfasted at the Hostel and packed all our belongings back in Saffy’s trusty Toyota Winger ( a station wagon), we set off to explore what was once our “town”. Takaka. 

Our first stop was obviously The Wholemeal Trading Company, where I ordered a large cappuccino made with their own freshly roasted coffee. I was in Heaven being back in the Wholemeal Café, as it was now called, and it felt surreal for both of us. It was the same but completely different. The cafe had tripled in size and was lighter and airier, painted a golden mustard colour (that matched the jacket I was wearing!) with quirky art  and posters on the walls. The Wholemeal Cafe had kept it’s former tones of glory but obviously had seen several re-vamps in the 35 years since I was last here. It was almost unbelieve that once again I was sitting at a wobbly table waiting for what would be the most delicious coffee I had tasted in the longest time. Perhaps my melancholic mood had flavoured my creamy hot beverage on that damp and typical Golden Bay morning. I spent several minutes looking around at my strange but familiar surroundings. There were now, several large cabinets of food lining the long counter and the coffee machines hissed and spluttered continually, pouring out joyous cups of dark nectar for impatient customers. Saffy took a photo of me holding my large cup of happiness and the look on my face spoke of the divinity by which I believed I had been touched.

We then walked the streets of Takaka for a while, recognising a few old shops, marveling at the new ones, and feeling that the streets still held the same old timeless vibe. I could see there was now a lot more money the area but maybe it had always been there. 

We visited the only Opshop we could find and it turned our to be the most disappointing shop I had been in for ages. Saffy and I spent a good 20 minutes trying to find something quirky, cheap, and uniquely Takaka, but to no avail. The let-down was probably felt even more harshly due to our high expectations and memories of long ago finding and wearing the bizarrest clothes we had ever worn in our lives. There was a sense we had been cheated out of our treasure, and the Opshop felt fake and lacking in true Takaka style.

It was at this point that we both seemed to be sensing that we were living in a time warp of “what was then, what is now and what is yet to come”. And at the back of our minds the now important question of “how we were going to conclude this trip and bring a resolve to the memories of old, and the fresh moments of now?” Everything was familiar and yet we frequently said to each other throughout our trip, “where are we going?” or “do you know where we are?” If ever there was a time of staring through a glass darkly, it was then as we continued our journey from Takaka over to Collingwood. We knew where we were going but our surroundings now looked different and the landmarks of old became obscure and slightly confusing to us as we tried to remember where friends had lived, how far we had to go, was the pub still there, where Saffy had been to watch the Mockers  as a teenager? And the all important question of where exactly did State Highway 60 end? 

However, we soon arrived in Collingwood, drinking in the now blue sky and a half tide that didn't quiet lap the edges of the road that wound it’s way into the little town. “It looks just the same,” we cried simultaneously. “ The garage is still there,” I remarked. “My school was up that road,” Saffy pointed before adding. “I think.” We turned into the "Main Street" driving slowly along it, which took us all of 30 seconds before following the road along the beach front that had now been planted with the wildest and  most colourful garden of flowers. There were also small signs dotted along the roadside  warning people "not to pick the flowers as they were there to be enjoyed by everyone". Later on, during one of my morning walks, a local lady scoffed at my mention of the sign and told me to help myself, "there were plenty of flowers". But I resisted, fearful that a not so friendly local might take umbrage at my cheeky little bit of theft. I was by now, busting to use the toilet so we looped back into the main street again, noting where our motel was situated. After toilet stops and a bit of exploring, we parked down by the estuary to enjoy the sun and scenery as it was too early to check into our motel unit.

The sun shone brightly now and we were hot. I sat on the jetty watching the tide slowly creeping in towards me while I filmed the waters and took pictures the mountains still shrouded in heavy clouds that refused to let me see the mountain peaks. As I gazed at all the breath-taking scenery, I remembered why I had fallen in love with this place so many years ago and marveled at the emotions that this silent majestic vista now stirred within my soul.

"I have walked the streets and stared at the beach. I have sat on the banks of the Aurere River, breathing in the majesty of the tall mountains steeped in secretive clouds as I wonder am I ever going to see the sky or will those clouds forever hold the mountain tops unto themselves."

 

Part #1- Destination Golden Bay

 TAKAKA

Thursday 18 January 2024

I enjoyed a nice, uneventful flight to Nelson, with the good luck of being seated next to a photographer and children’s author from Chicago, who showed me the proof copy of her fabulous new book. If you sit next to anyone on a plane, an actual writer of some description is usually the best – but not a pretentious one or self-aggrandising one.

Saffy was at the airport to meet me – right on time - so much so, that I had not even collected my luggage. It was straight into the car as we took off to Golden Bay, not stopping anywhere until we got to Takaka.

It was drizzling, cloudy and warm from the moment we left the airport as we began our long drive down memory lane, especially once we were on State Highway 60. Saffy took a wrong turn at a roundabout that, “wasn’t there last time we were in Nelson.” In fact there were a whole lot of new roads and traffic lanes, plus many roundabouts in Nelson also infinitely more houses, factories, malls etc.

Everywhere had grown, which made me wonder how well this would bode for Takaka. Would we find shiny, rumbling Euro cars outside of glittering restaurants full of spangly, jewellery dangling rich immigrants from Auckland and nearby cities who had turned Takaka into their own little Ponsonby, albeit, a very remote Ponsonby. Fortunately, my fears were groundless.

We drove along what I remembered to be the Coastal highway to Takaka, via Motueka, which snaked through Tasman and skirted the Tasman/ Mariri Inlet. Once upon a time this highway had looped through Mapua and Ruby Bay but now it completely bypassed the village and beach of my former home from the 1980’s. It saddened me that I would miss seeing my beloved village and the road that I had lived on when we had barely been in the region for an  hour. I had to remind myself that a lot can change over 35 years, as I was already discovering. And none more so than me and Saffy.

The highway was now wider and interspersed with more roundabouts and large road signs, though it was no less windier. We slid into the main street of Motueka which is called High Street, passing the clock tower which was once the Rothman’s clock tower. I chuckled and remarked that it would now be, in the 21^st Century, politically incorrect to have such an auspicious landmark being sponsored by a tobacco company. However, now it was plastered with ITM slogans so technically it is partly sponsored by the sale of nasty pine trees which perhaps are seen as a lesser evil than tobacco. Ironically, Motueka is still the largest tobacco growing area in New Zealand, an evil that seems to be difficult to root out from the land in more ways than one.

Traversing over the famous Takaka Hill or Marble Mountain where I had also resided and worked as a housekeeper, not once but twice during the ‘80s, I was dismayed to see that my former residence had burnt to the ground with barely any trace of the home that had nestled amongst the pine trees on this sharp bend in the road. Only a small portion of an ancient brick chimney remained and a stand of red hot pokers, blooming defiantly in the corner of what was once the garden. I gazed mournfully out of my misty window, trying hard to see any landmark that showed that I had once lived here.

We reached the township of  Takaka and found the hostel that we would be staying in which was to be a new experience for me, especially with it being called, “Annie’s Nirvana”.  However it was quaint and cosy, and Saffy chose the narrow top bunk to help ease my shock of staying in a Hostel for only the second time in my life. The gardens were beautiful, the other guests friendly and the owner one of those colourful characters who had come here around 40 years ago (just like me, Saffy and Pikelet). Then fell in love with the place and some pretty young girl and never left.  We went out for dinner and found a pop-up restaurant in the Telegraph Hotel - "it's still here", we had jointly chortled. Dinner was mussels, local sourdough bread, hummus and pasta. We returned to the hostel, and unpacked, showered and retired to our cabin due to the over-sized mosquitos lurking in the garden, baying for our fresh, out of town blood. I slept better that night than I thought I would.

 I woke first in the morning as daylight started sneaking under our bedroom curtains. I very quietly left our shared abode, and clutching my container of coffee headed for the kitchen to find a coffee plunger. I found one almost straight away and decided that I now loved Annie’s quirky Nirvana hostel and almost wanted to stay longer. I made a plunger of coffee and sitting outside on a lovely cushioned bench beneath a magnificent blossoming wisteria I decided that I would film the rising sun and capture the songs of early morning birds in the surrounding trees. However, Takaka had other plans for me. As I took my phone out of my pocket and set it to video the skies opened above me and released the heaviest rain that I had forgotten existed and drowned out the birdsong and sent me running for shelter with my hot cup of coffee.

I videoed the rain and laughed to myself at the intensity of the Golden Bay weather with it’s almost emotional intensity which now seemed to be gifting me a heavenly heralding of welcome. I pondered the glowering, heavy dark skies, searching for a crack in the clouds that I knew was not coming and it was in that moment I realised after all these years, I had finally returned to the Bay.