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Earlier in the week, Bronwyn and Ross came along the road and saw that the eight inch gate post had been broken, plus all of the planks that had been attached to it. While they were there, our neighbour from over the road came out and said it had been caused by a big truck, trying to do an 11 point turn in our driveway and hers. She had seen the truck go back to the winery nearby, presumably having missed the turning. They then saw another truck that was also heading to the winery, and flagged it down. He carried on and then phoned back to say he'd seen the driver looking rather shifty and nervous at the office, and gave them a company name and a phone number. Ross tried it, but couldn't get through. Bronwyn then phoned me, and I looked it up. Pity that the name was 'Container Transport', which gave a hundred choices, but one had stood out, in Christchurch. It was the same number, but Ross had tried the Auckland area code. Not sure of the rest of that story, but we now have a nine inch post, a bigger gate (Ross had been meaning to enlarge it for a while) and I presume there's a truck in Christchurch somewhere with a rather nasty dent in the back!
Friday night, I went to bed early for reasons which I'll explain later. Some time later, Bronwyn heard voices towards the road, and decided that it was some people coming to take sheep from the paddock. One of the voices was female. She called the police, who got the wrong address and woke up everybody on the other side of the road. They eventually came back and scanned the perimeter, but found nobody.
On Saturday, Bronwyn was talking to someone up the road, who had seen some people lurching drunkenly along the middle of the road. It looked like a bridesmaid and some groom's men. So the mystery was solved. They were presumably heading home from the nearby function centre, the wrong way, still dressed up and rather plastered. We have DNA evidence. Bronwyn found a pile of vomit 20 metres up our driveway.
On Saturday, I got up early and set off to meet up with a group from church who were going to climb The Pinnacles in the Coromandel. We got there just after nine and set off. The youth group put on a cracking pace, and I tried to keep up, but eventually got left behind. It's a long walk, and lots of steps. I'm not sure what the vertical distance is, but it's comparable to Snowdon, only with thick bush and very uneven paths. At the top is The Pinnacles Hut. It's more than a hut, it sleeps 80 and has a very impressive kitchen. After lunch, we set off for the last few hundred metres to the top. It gets steeper, and eventually there's a series of ladders. My knees were beginning to give up, so it was good being able to use arms as well as legs.
Fantastic view from the top, out across the pacific one way, and a good distance across the North Island the other way. After a few photos at the top, we set off back down. Having wasted one set of muscles, I now wasted the other ones. Towards the end, I was finding it hard to move my legs, and every step was getting painful. At last I staggered back to the car park with a mate who had kept with me, largely because I was the last one. We drove back down the road to a place where you can jump into the river. I wanted to, but decided I might not have any legs to swim! So I waded in and cooled down for a bit.
Sunday morning, Rachael was supposed to be doing the computer at church. I was looking forward to a bit of a lie in. Rachael wasn't feeling well, so I hobbled in and did it instead. That afternoon, the brass band had a concert at another winery nearby.
It's a nice place. There's a small lake, and a slope up to the building with about 25 steps. Janet and Ross and a few others had picked a spot near the top. This meant that I was up and down the steps several times. My legs had recovered somewhat, but there was still a sense of dread when I realised I had to go all the way up in order to borrow the car keys. Then back up to hand them back.
The concert went well, apart from when a gust of wind blew several bits of paper into the lake. We carried on regardless. At half time, I managed to fish out a few sheets with a flax stalk. Got a round of applause from the audience, who had watched me leaning out over the stagnant water in my nice shoes and uniform.
That evening, we went out to the hot pools. I would have loved to do the water slide, but the climb up put me off somewhat! But at least my legs are feeling better. The top half is now aching instead.
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