Sunday morning the owner of the tavern brought me out a bowl of cereal and coffee before I finally got going at 11am. I had a slow start before picking it up after my only stop that day  for a monster ice cream in a supermarket in Hampden. The guy there just kept piling the ice cream up the cone, a triple scoop of course, goes without saying. It took me 20 happy minutes to eat. That kept me going till I clocked out for the day with 45k I finished in a small town called Palmerston where my host a tri-athlete called Andrew arrived at a conveniently placed finishing sign for the day.. Dunedin 52km sign was photographed, I would be dropped back here in the morning, a back track of about 14km.

Andrew

Andrew and his wife Cherie are a nice young couple who know how to enjoy life and the great outdoors. Despite my monster ice cream a bit earlier I had no problem in polishing off a delicious plate of chicken, rice and savory vegetables.

As Andrew works in a school in Dunedin my destination the following night he agreed to take my pack forward and give it to his colleague Heidi who was to be my host there the following night.

Well the start sign said Dunedin 52km but my route was along the longer breath-taking coastal route. Andrew suggested I stop for a second breakfast when I ran by the end of his road, so I did and Cherie loaded me down with bananas for the road.

Cherie with Charlie

On the coastal route I met Dave and Pam my friends from the backpackers hostel in Kaikoura about three weeks ago. They just pulled up and asked me what I was doing on that road, so I just said the same as you, taking the more scenic route. I meet so many people that I sometimes have problems putting names to faces, my head is in a spin by all the encounters I am having. We had a pleasant chat then they gave me mints for the road before driving on.

Pam and Dave

Back onto route 1 before turning left at the next village and over a back breaking Mount Cargill pass. More stunning scenery, more stops and then it was down, down, and down all the way to Dunedin on the left I ran by and not up Baldwin Street.

This was at km 54 of today’s 55, yes I ran by the foot of the ‘ worlds steepest street ‘ aka Baldwin Street. 161 metres long it has a 1 in 3.5 gradient and at it’s  steepest section is a 1 in 2.5 gradient. During the towns festival there is a race up and down the hill called the ‘ gut buster ‘

Next day I regretted not running up and down, hey 320.4  metres out of my way even if I did run an extra three to avoid the motorway into the city.

Baldwin Street. The worlds steepest street.

So, I got to the Botanical Gardens which Andrew suggested would make a good finishing spot for the day and called Heidi. I knew they lived up the top of a very steep mountain a fair bit out of town, so after my long day can you imagine how I felt when Heidi would have her Derek husband run down for me and I am thinking I would have to run up there. Any taxi service in town I am thinking, now that I have finished for the day! Then Derek runs down the road wearing a green tee-shirt and barefooted. I am thinking he is a tough runner but then I realized he brought his car and thankfully Heidi meant run down in his car

Many people here in New Zealand walk around barefooted. It has been this way for over 20 years I have been told, nothing to do with the recent very popular barefoot running fad. I am told it’s always been that laid back here. I never see a ‘ No shoes no service ‘ sign.

I very much appreciated the effort Heidi and Derek made as they literally have their arms full with their three month old baby Luca.

We had a laugh or rather Derek and Heidi had a laugh because their bathroom has a strange door lock and despite Derek showing me how to open it, old man here with his last remaining brain cell run out of him manages to get locked in the bathroom.

So I holler and holler till eventually they hear me and a laughing Derek releases me.

Next morning he tells me they were in stitches thinking the noise was coming from the baby alarm.

” Derek is that Luca shouting?

” Well Heidi he was only three months yesterday and I don’t think he can talk yet! ”

” But what’s that Derek? ”

” Heidi our baby doesn’t talk with an Irish accent… Is there something you haven’t told me!! ”

Derek, Heidi and young Luca with the Irish accent

Next day no fear of me getting locked in a bathroom as I finish at a pretty lake in Waihola. I stop for a pot of tea at a tavern. No  where to stay here, it’s looking bad, no shelter. I find a children’s playground and roll my sleeping bag out under the sheltered platform of a slide, a new one! Still the soft pebbles were more comfortable than concrete. It looked like it was going to rain but it never did.

In the morning at the petrol  station a nice man gives me free coffee and two meat pies for my breakfast

I also find someone who can drop off my pack in Balclutha 43km down the road. She is only too delighted for she said she heard me on the radio a couple of weeks ago. Around lunch time I ran through a place called Milton which is famous for it’s kink in the middle of it’s main street. Apparently there are two debated reasons why after several straight as a die kilometres the towns main street does a swerve and moves over one street block. The first explanation is the towns folks wanted to preserve a big tree and routed the main street around it… Too boring an explanation, even the Green Party wouldn’t do that!! Well perhaps they would!

The explanation I believe is that two surveyors when plotting out the streets location sarted at opposite ends of the town from each other. They were both reading off the same side of their surveying sticks and made a huge boobie! Yeah! That’s more fun!  Can you believe I ran through there and didn’t even notice huge kink in the road. To me this is just gimmicky tourist attraction baloney, still I would have stopped for a photo had I noticed!  To my slightly cynical mind tourism people would do anything for a gimmick – the amount of times people have asked me did I not stop and look at such and such an historic bridge or beautiful lake is amazing.

Balclutha town is small but spread out. Speaking of historic bridges, which I mostly ignore… I ran over a large bridge. This time there was a decent pedestrian path. It’s an old bridge opened in 1935 at a cost of 1,400 pounds. Interestingly someone called DH has scratched their initials in the concrete rail when it was wet in 1934 and nobody bothered to remove it, I felt it added to it’s authenticity and great grandeur.

I made my way through the town stopping in a petrol station. I bought a litre of milk, heated a cup of it up in their microwave and added a couple of coffee bags. The friendly lad there gave me a meat pie, seems to be an area for meat pies. The backpackers hostel was closed down. I looked around for a place to stay. Noticing a gap of a metre between a wall and the Presbyterian church was tempting. I am sure I could have gotten some cardboard from the petrol station. I gave it a miss, must be getting soft!

After a bit of wandering around I discovered the fire station. Some of the volunteers were just locking up the office, so I asked for permission to sleep under a covered area for the fire trucks, sure go for it, I was told.

‘ Go for it ‘ is a very popular phrase here in New Zealand. I love it… Visions of everything is possible. I wonder why a sports shoe company doesn’t use it for a trademark.

I pulled out a few old carpets from a pile against a wall and settled down. Then I pulled out a fireman dummy and used his leg for a pillow. I woke up in the middle of the night and said.. ” Mister.. Did anyone ever tell you that you have a bony leg! ”

Then don’t laugh… I climbed up on him and used him as an air bed… Nice and soft till I threw him aside when I fell between his legs in the middle of the night!! Yes I did say… Don’t laugh

Air mattress for the night!

Next day I ran with my pack the whole day. I ran into Clinton and I could hear that voice say.  ” I did not run with that woman! ”

Yes Clinton is a small town here and astonishingly the very next town up route 1 is called of all things Gore..

Signpost in Clinton pointing the way to the next village Gore

Whats the chances of that ever happening and not named after President Bill or vice president Al Gore as I had wondered. These towns are as ancient as any of the others I have run through with all their war memorials on display dating back to the First World War. From Clinton I took the Old Coach road and didn’t get to see Gore. I had a decent 10 hour slept in a field under a nice clear sky. 54km that day.

I did not run with that woman!

Only two big distance days till I reach the Pacific at the end of New Zealand. I got off to a nice start that penultimate day enjoying my run all the way to Dacre. I had an invite to stay in a small village off my route called Wyndham. Brian, my host is the cousin of Alan Knox whom I stayed with in Auckland. He and Rose picked me up on the road in Dacre 20 km past Wyndham for I need the extra few kilometres to finish at a respectable time tomorrow.

Brian and Rose

Next day I took a rest day, My first in 36 days, a record for the run.