The old key (bottom right) shows Paua Bay on the Banks Peninsula. The volcanic crater which gave birth to the peninsula is very visible
We have awakened each morning here at Paua
Bay Farm Stay just as the sun is rising above the horizon, one morning with a
tangerine sky, one an immediate blue sheen and today, through clouds.
We loll in bed and marvel at our good
fortune to have found this place at what seems to be the edge of the earth.
Surrounded by a lush, tumbling and exuberant
English garden, the house is cradled between great grassy ridges where some of
the 4000 sheep roam within the view from our bedroom. All of the farm
buildings, sheep shed, equipment and dog runs are tucked away but we are free
to roam the whole property, including the small vegetable garden, a swimming
pool and an old claw foot tub down the hill where one can have a candle lit
bath under the stars
In addition to managing 4000 sheep, and 150
head of cattle on almost 1000 acres, our hosts Sue and Murray also run tours of
the farm for tourists off the huge cruise ships which anchor in Akaroa Bay,
about 20 kilometers away. Up the winding road come the vans and 10-20 people
come piling out to the sheep shed where Murray entertains the crowd with a
family story that embraces the history of this part of New Zealand where his
family have farmed for 7 generations.
They watch shearing and the dogs at work. It is all very low key and
very interesting. Sue then serves everyone tea, scones and jam and away they
go, leaving us all in peace.
Our Host Murray helped me get up close and comfortable with a ewe.
Exploring these vast hills on foot has been
our focus for the last six days. We have hiked fields and forests and nature
preserves, climbing and descending elevations that have challenged us.
Akaroa is a small town nestled in a deep
bay. Here we can buy our nightly bottle of wine…always white, crisp and dry. We
have been able to enjoy our libations on the veranda, but not tonight. It has
howled with wind today, rained and hailed.
Tonight we will picnic here at the
farmhouse, as we are alone. Everyone else has gone to town to play cricket or
to party with friends. Bruce is reading in the cozy living room and I am at the
long kitchen table.
We will be sad to leave on Monday morning,
having spent one week here. Many have questioned our plan to stay here for
almost a third of our time in New Zealand and we certainly wondered about our
sanity as we came chugging over the hills towards this bay, with houses miles
apart and precarious curves on the narrow gravel roads and windblown scrubby
trees dotting the hilltops.
But Paua Bay will be one of those places
that we will pine for in the years to come. We have relished the quiet
isolation while living within the warmth of generous, gentle hosts whose love
of the land permeates their stories and whose healthy life upon the land glows
in their eyes, their skin and their smiles. They are happy here and so have we
been happy here. We have hiked more vigorously than we have in years, learned a
great deal about the history and growth of one of our Commonwealth countries
and shared many a laugh with Kiwis whom we have found in general to be
unfailingly cheerful.
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