The next day, I’m still feeling under the weather. I hitchhike from Pahara to Takaka, where I realise as it starts to rain that I’ve forgotten my rain jacket in the hostel. I hitchhike back. Nothing. Back to Takaka. Ah yes, it was in my rucksack the whole time.
Takaka is a nice little hippy town in Golden Bay. There are three clothing shops. All of them sell hippie wear. A few fair trade and organic products shops. And that’s about it. A toboggan gives me the first lift to Collingwood, a young German couple the second. The Sommerset Hostel is an old Sunday school above the 19th century church.
The view over Golden Bay is magnificent. At least until it starts to rain. It rains and storms all day. The people here are nice. Finally some older travellers, no drunken children. We all cook loads of food for Christmas Eve and play chess. Your wine eight gave me the idea of mulled wine, Hubert. Very tasty and a bit of home.
Around 11 pm I look down into the village. There’s only one pub. I order a beer. Five rather lost figures are staggering around. A drunken old Father Christmas in a black cap and shorts/sandals slurs to Matchbox 20: “Let’s see how far we’ve come”. A comical daughter sits at the bar with her comical father. An employee waves a hoover around.
On Christmas Day, the hostel owners invite us all to a big Christmas buffet. Ox tongue, roast beef, roast pork, chicken, loads of salads, sugary desserts, beer and wine almost make me burst: Almost like Christmas at home…
Frank Woelky, born in 1973. Kitesurfer since 1998. Since 2006, I have been combining kitesurfing and web design on trips lasting several months off the beaten track.