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Posts from the ‘Xmas ’13’ Category

A grand old lady and a moody mountain

I had a hankering to get up close to the summertime version of Mt Ruapehu, home to the North Island’s major skifields, and worked in a quickie visit late December. The northern side of the mountain was chosen due to the extra sightseeing potential offered by its chairlifts, to be supplemented by some shortish treks from our Whakapapa village base. However, with a crappy forecast and a busted little toe, this visit was not going to go to plan. Read more

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Kingseat: Abdicated but not abandoned

Our time in ‘the north’ was up. We needed to start making our way back home, though plenty of meandering to soften the blow was planned. The first was a minor detour that got added to the itinerary in an instant the night before – such is the pulling power for me of the words ‘closed psychiatric hospital’. Read more

Xmas-New Year rogues gallery

I live away from my main base of family and friends so my trip away at Christmas provided an obvious opportunity to address the risk of ‘out of sight, out of mind’. Read more

Heart of the community no more

A century ago this was a treasured hub for social functions, meetings, church services and acquiring library books. Today the old hall sits quietly at the top of the rise, a structure you’re vaguely aware of as you fly through the blink-and-you-miss-it settlement of Woodhill on State Highway 16.
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Hometown haunts and habitats: rustic miscellanea

My dicky toe had scuttled plans of getting out and about on foot properly. In any case, the weather wasn’t exactly conducive to lengthy walks with a camera. To satisfy the itch to get out and get snapping it was clear I’d need to rely on my car a lot more.
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Hometown haunts and habitats: a brown river

Without question there are far more beautiful rivers in NZ. Up here there are no glaciers to feed the waterways. Don’t be put off by the colour though – the perpetually muddy Kaipara River has its own beauty and character.
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Ghosts of Christmas Days past (2)

‘Twas after lunch on Christmas Day afternoon and we were out in the wop-wops near where I grew up. I wanted to ‘go take photos’ so with Dad as chauffeur, Gran riding shotgun and me wedged in the back seat we headed out the narrow metal road to the end of South Head.

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Ghosts of Christmas Days past (1)

I awoke early, not from the excitement of a probable visit from Santa – he couldn’t possibly have known where I was – but from an alarm sometime after 5am in the motel unit next to mine. Delighted, I was.
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School is out!

Like many other gleeful people, I’ve finished work for the year and have a two week break before cranking into 2014.
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