Day Fourteen - Chasing a Time Warp

I always knew that sooner or later my AARP card would come in handy. I use it this morning to scrape half an inch of ice off the windows of the Puke before we can leave Twizel. The thick cloud we encountered last night remains and is if anything, even more dense. I cannot fathom the difference between a thick cloud and a dense fog, but fall back on my father’s advice that if he didn’t know the answer, it was not worth knowing. We bypass the 30 kilometer side trip up to Mt Cook because nothing beyond 30 feet is visible anyway. Fifty kilometers down the road, I finally drop out of the clouds and brilliant morning sunshine greets us when we happen upon the small sign pointing the way to Stewart’s recommendation, the Mt. John Observatory. I take the cutoff and end up on one more single lane road that switches back and forth but always climbs steeply upwards into the stratosphere. Both sides of the road are lined with piled snow from a recent plowing. The chocolate is gone and Kris leaves deep finger impressions in the crash bar and my left thigh. At the peak we are the first visitors up and one more time, (I know you are tired of reading this) I believe I can see Australia, Indonesia and South America, all at the same time. The air here is unbelievably clear and thus the vistas defy description. (I know, I have been trying regardless) Lake Tepako and its small town are far below us and it is easy to feel like a Greek God on this mountain top as I sip my double cappuccino. Yup, this view is in my opinion, better than the one leading into Queenstown.

An hour later we are on a series of rolling hills (apparently flat, horizontal roads are illegal in this country) as one vintage car after another passes us going in the other direction. Nothing newer than a ‘32 model T and many dating back into the early teens make me think we have entered a time warp. There are no cars on our side of the road and for three hours none on the other side BUT these antiques. How does a 1909 Hupmobile make it up these hills anyway? Even Jay Leno needs a trailing crew van. A good number of these cars are open cabs and the passengers are dressed in vintage dusters, leather helmets and goggles. We wave and they laugh and wave back. Hard to believe they could actually be laughing while their faces were white with frostbite. These Kiwis are a hardy lot for sure. Kris and I estimate there are well over a hundred of them and that it is entirely possible we have entered a parallel universe. Reality returns when we come upon a series of SUV’s pulling tool cribs, several non-running vehicles and a tow truck. Yeah, get real Kiwis!

We stop at a street market in a town called Geraldine and Kris finds several pieces of jewelry she likes and I definitely know I am out of the time warp and back to reality. After a brief discussion with the artist who happens to be an avid sailor, I give him a copy of my Fayal Roads book. In return he offers Kris a piece of jewelry she has not yet bought. I don’t quite get the logic of MY giving him a book and he gives HER a piece of jewelry. But she is smiling and all is right with the world… almost. Once more the late afternoon drive results in an after dark harrowing (for her) steep and curvy descent out of the highlands to the East Coast and Kaikoura about fifty miles north of Christchurch. Dinner at the Blue Dolphin and I drop off to sleep quickly in a comfortable room at the Blue Seas Motel while the familiar sound of crashing surf lulls me into a deep alternative universe secure in my own warped sense of time.