Farmer Morebottle, Godzone’s playboy ploughboy, is scouring the Southern Hemisphere on his endless quest to find winter fun in the sun. So far, all has gone well…
Sunday February 2, 2020
He: I found Burt’s bike (but not his famous lemon tree)!
Me: Some explanation is necessary here, dear reader. Morebottle, knowing more about digging tatties than writing travelogues, neglects to fill you in on the subject of his third passion (after food and drink, naturally). He is a motorcycle nut and thus made a pilgrimage to Invercargill, birthplace and lifelong home of New Zealander Burt Munro, a man who never let the dreams of youth fade.After a lifetime perfecting his classic 1920 Indian motorcycle in his back garden shed under a lemon tree, Munro set off to test his bike at the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah in 1967. With all odds against him, old Burt set a new world speed record which remains unbroken and his legend lives on today, certainly in biking circles and through the film ‘The World’s Fastest Indian’, starring Anthony Hopkins.
No culinary delights to report except for the pie shops: you can find them in every little town and stopping place along the road. Not just pies but also some cracking Sauvignon Blancs – not to be drunk with the pies, you understand!
Phew! I thought you’d lost your tastebuds for a while there, Morebottle. Stay off the pie and peas and keep the food and drink reports coming. . . like you, your readers can’t get enough of them! Where next?
Off to Fiordland tomorrow and the start of the journey north again. Little bit of rain forecast. . .
Those were the last words I heard from the playboy ploughboy for three days as reports of South Island being pounded by a wild storm poured in.
WELLINGTON (Reuters) – STRANDED TOURISTS BEING AIRLIFTED FROM MILFORD SOUND – stop – STATE OF EMERGENCY DECLARED IN FIORDLAND REGION – stop – 382 TRAPPED INCLUDING STAFF AND VISITORS AT A LODGE AND ON TOURIST BOATS -stop-
Finally, with his domino partners suggesting we search Morebottle’s farm for a Last Will and Testament (“He’s sure to have left us some drinking money for the wake,” was the common suggestion) an email arrived. . .
Just made it out of Milford sound before the big landslide! We need sunshine again. We’re now in the north of the South Island heading for the south of the North Island and plenty of warmth, hopefully. Back in north-east NZ there’s balmy sunshine and all my travelling sous chef companion can find to complain about is the lack of veggie options in restaurants.
WHAAAT? She’s a pescatarian, isn’t she? And you’re in some of the best fishing waters on earth.
Yeah, I know. And the fish and chips look pretty good to me. . .Still, we’ve been trawling some superma(rkets looking for dietary supplements. I thought of you and had to laugh when I saw this sign in one of the shops. . .
You really ought to give those puddings a miss, Banksy! 😀
Not amused, Morebottle. By the way, your pals at the Red Lion ask when you’re back in town? And whether you have plans to put yourself in isolation for a fortnight over the coronavirus?