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."