gijoe1313's Blogs

Now for this nefarious plan to tour the countryside of our fair lands, DONOR and I had numerous challenges to overcome. Namely provisioning. We spent a goodly amount of time with drool on our chins as we thought of all the rations we would consume, vittles to munch on and liquid potables to quaff.

With that semi-sorted, we loaded copious amounts of ginger beer into an eski and basically proceeded to chuff all sorts of gear into DONOR’s station wagon. We also sorted out our bike trailer with a new WOF after a bit of a fiddle with a dicky brake light. So testicles, spectacles, wallet and watch sorted, we bedded down for the night to get up at 4.30am for a 5am start (I was kipping over to make it easier to get away efficiently).

What a load of bollocks.

DONOR couldn’t get out of bed due to his alarm clock failing, and I was sitting in the lounge I contented myself to reading a strategy guide for DIABLO I and II (with expansion) and around 5am, DONOR is kicked out of bed by his wife

So with that late start so early in the morning (chortle! Oxymoron!) we gassed up and ended up in the ne’er parts of Otorohanga, heading to Masterton and to our date with destiny! (also conditional on the money from the transfer showing up in the dealer’s bank account okey☺

Well when the sun peeked through the pall of the passing blanket of the night, we were well on the way – stopping for a quick feed of the golden arches at Otorohanga. DONOR imbibed his large can of black V and I merely threw some cola down my neck.

At Tamaranui a quick refresh of chocolate supplies to ensure maximum feel good factor was enjoyed. This was after many rousing hours of trying to remember what 80s TV shows we had watched (kind of scary!) also many renditions of karaoke of favourite themes was par for the course (it was agreed that “Snoopy’s Christmas” was the best of them all with “I’m a little teapot” vying for top honours).

This is where our roadtrip got derailed and we found ourselves having to scoff the best pies at the One Horse Café as recommended by Lucy in Raetihi (lovely it was!) so good were these morsels of flavour and so great was the dark art in crafting them, I bought three to take up to D’orland for my dearest pater, who is somewhat of a connoisseur of these pastry enclosed meat parcels.

With repast digesting in our stomachs, the lads head off to Waiouru and the travel plan got well and truly destroyed. The ETA to get to Masterton around 2-3ish was well scuppered by DONOR’s desire to view the Army Museum. Who was I to say nay to such a man who looked as if he had found a really cute puppy and wanted to keep it? And with a nickname like mine, it would be churlish to deny such a designation with the keepers of peace.

The war museum is a thing of great beauty and revulsion to me, I forever adore the implements of war, but forever abhor the implications of their existence. The sheer scale of waste, the almost casual infliction of brutality is a dark stain on our souls.

This was tempered by the revelations of my erstwhile travelling companion who has been denied many a time to visit this hallowed place of remembrance.

As our travel resumed, our mood did lighten, away did the troubled mien fall from faces and a bright grin shone forth again to enliven our road trip. For those who served, they allowed us the freedom and opportunity to do exactly as we are wont to do.

In Taihape, DONOR’s GPS chirped merrily that we were nearing out rendezvous to come. Statistics were reeled off as the milage fell away. Through twisting roads, the whirling forest of man-made ingenuity came through, the tragic scene of an accident on a bend in view. The spectacular power of Aotearoa impressed itself through our ocular organs as we feasted on God’s own.

But, eventually our target breached from the streets of Masterton, the Honda dealership in it’s majesty had our prize waiting to go. Andy unfortunately could not be there to see us off since we had taken so long in arriving (4.30pm now! )

I took the time to ring up John Baker insurance to ensure the bike was covered before we even left the premises, ten minutes on the phone and all was sweet. Bemused, the staff queried why we weren’t loading the bike onto our trailer. Aha! My usual bonhomie of riding “whenever, where-ever, anytime, anyplace” seems to have made me a bit “Speshul” in their eyes!

Of course, we refilled the bike, the car and ourselves before the trek back to D’orkland. Foot long, Italian herbs and cheese, BBQ meatball rolls from SUBWAY was packed most efficiently into our svelte stomach lines and we prepared to set forth on our jolly jape and escapade!

Oh, and for all those who have reached this far in the ramblings of my befuddled and demented (un)consciousness, I applaud your grit and have yet to warn you to gird your loins for more of the same waxing aloud of a great deal many of things that signify very little!