Peria

  

I find myself in Peria, northern New Zealand, exactly how I came to be here, it was my mom's "stuff". Which at first was hinted to be a rug she left at a friend's house several years ago has turned out to be much, much more. Making our way north along the coast we cruise up the 10 coastal highway until we get to Kaitaia, a small one road town, the highway curves west along the north coast skipping the northern peninsula and follows a scenic path. We turn off on a little road called Oruru which essentially splits between the two major pathways the ten and the 11, which are the major motorways up north, and make way for our final destination at the country store to meet our contact Charlie, who is the caretaker of our friends estate. Charlie greets us with a kiwi smile and a hello then has us follow him to the house. Off the Oruru we start going into the bush past cattle lands and farms up into the winding hills of the country until the paveway turns to dusty potholes and the lanes shrink dangerously smaller than the cars-width standard. We quickly lose Charlie who must drive this everyday to leave his house and make the 20 minute trek to the nearest paved road; past that it's another 45 minutes to the nearest town, and you will be lucky to find a place open past five. Nonetheless we brave the hairpin turns and washed out roads and come to the end of a where the bush looms over dodging possum to find him. It is here that I will spend the next two weeks sorting through the stuff but mostly watching the ultimate fighter on my laptop, and waiting till the next trip to town. Its beautiful country but not much in the way of activities.