Mountain Reflections Five - Ohakune & Carrots

One whole week in Ohakune and I have yet to eat one carrot!

Which is really funny because it seems that aside from winter skiing and snow the whole purpose of Ohakune is carrots.  Every second conversation from the locals seems to have something to do with carrots.  The other night when the two Deliverance chaps were talking to me they introduced me to the “biggest carrot grower” in the district.  A fellow who is clearly a descendant of early 20^th century Chinese market gardeners who spoke with the most Kiwi accent, and drinks Speights.  Anyway, he told me they are busy harvesting carrots right now and have been for some months and will be for a while yet.  This is the time of the year when the carrots are the nicest, the sweetest.  Yet I still haven’t eaten one while down here.  Cause no body is actually selling them at the gates anywhere and one would have to go to the supermarket to purchase the carrots, which seems rather silly when the entire countryside is covered in carrots.

The big carrot just on the outside of town has recently been repainted, maybe for the winter seasonal tourists and visitors.  It is oranger than orange now.

 

Actually, the town is really a puzzle to me.  Having travelled every little street and track and pathway of this town over the past week I could not help but notice how many trades people were busy working on properties in the town.  There are a couple of lovely ‘suburbs’ of the town which you would never know about unless you were exploring the minor side streets and I was rather surprised to see the high standard of houses on the properties.  The properties are clearly holiday homes for those city folk who like to ski and play in snow over winter – and have purchased or had built their own home for the snow season.  In summer they probably go to their holiday homes in Omaha or Pauanui.

My point is, everywhere I went I saw tradesmen painting, building, re-roofing, concreting, electricalling, gardening, lawn mowing.  There seems to be enough trade industry in the town to keep the local trades people very busy.  Yet the retail township looks very sad.  The usual empty shop fronts with For Lease signs on the window. 

Tony and I and others have travelled the road to Ohakune on many occasions over the past several years and were always interested to find the town, as small as it is, had a great café, a great retail shop selling super clothings and jewellery and gifts, as well as four or five really smart take aways or restaurants.  And this was in the main time of our so-called ‘recession’ three, four or five years ago.  It seemed to be booming.

Well the café has a new owner and the food and coffee is shite; the clothing-jewellery retail shop is obviously in new ownership too and is half the size with half the goods with half the quality.  And the neat restaurant's' is reduced to one and there is only one takeaway shop which reeks of old oils or fats.  I walked in for a coffee, took one whiff and walked out.  So the commercial part of the township is barely holding up, yet the residential parts are buzzing and growing. 

No doubt that will change again once the snow comes.  There will be a seasonal rush of business makers temporarily leasing the shops for bars and retail junk.  One of the empty shops has already been leased for a week by a company who is now interviewing for winter staff, so there are all manner of good looking young men and blonde ladies, dressed like snow bunnies, queuing up in the street for their interview. 

Back to where I started.  Carrots.  I’ve had none.  Had lots of baked beans and one of the very, very, very, very rare positives about being on one’s own is that flatulence doesn’t matter. 

Fortunately, I think, neither Tony nor I considered being free with your wind around the house was something mutually agreeable.  If it did happen and I accidentally had one slip through I would be in a semi-state of embarrassment to have allowed Tony to know that my body actually could create wind.

So baked beans was a good choice of main meal for a couple of nights.

Indeed, last night I decided my lovely plate of baked beans on toast deserved to be accompanied by a glass of wine so I went to fetch the bottle.  After pouring a glass I returned to my plate of beans thought I was have optical illusions.  There was a rather large daddy long legs meandering his way across my pile of beans.  He must have dropped from the ceiling.  Had me looking ceiling-ward for the rest of the night for fear of other creatures up there.

Speaking of creatures, went on a little mountain bike jaunt along part of the Old Coach Road and on returning into town decided to stop by the big (and new) sign that the Council have put up that shows the maps of all the mountain bike and tramping tracks. There was a rather older gentleman, well dressed, well heeled, standing on his own reading the sign.  So, as you do, when I pulled up on my bike I greeted him with a cherrie “Hello, lovely afternoon isn’t it,”  (that’s a rhetorical question so I don’t need a question mark after it).  Whereupon this well-heeled, elderly gentleman looked me up and down then promptly turned his back to read the map again, without even attempting a grunt.  Rather made me question how bad I actually do look nowadays. Do I really look that bad in my cycling gear?  (that’s not rhetorical, it’s a real question). 

May he choke convulsively on his next carrot.

The mountain bike ride was lovely but I did not venture too far for fear of fear.  

I find I am now in the insidious position of realising I cannot do the adventuring things ad hoc as Tony and I would have normally done.  Everything I do now I have to think twice about, is it safe?  is it sensible?  what happens if something goes wrong?  Does anyone know where I am?  If I died, I wouldn't be missed for days.  How long would it take before they found me?  Are there any bogeymen out here?  ....  Whereas pre-tumour, Tony and I would just go. Bit of a bugger this being a oneself now.  Having to curtail the adventures is not fun. 

Oh well, think I’ll go buy a carrot.