Child of the Planet

Off the train and straight to the tourist info booth (have I mentioned how really organised the tourist biz is in N.Z?) and made the sort of request that I really hate… ‘Can you find me somewhere to stay that is interesting?’ We spent five minutes working out what she thought I meant by ‘interesting.’ A booking was made and I walked along the esplanade past a bay full of crystal clear water, right to the edge of town. The address I was looking for was an old pub perched almost on the right hand tip of the bay. This was the view from the beer garden… Simple old world accommodation upstairs, and really decent food in the restaurant down stairs. It had been bought and renovated by a guy who used to work for a huge motel chain but he had decided that he wanted to do something more personal and something he could call his own. I hate the carbon copy hotel rooms that have spread across the planet following along behind the MacDonald’s plague and this place felt really co