Ngawi

15Dec09

On Saturday we drove to Martinborough to see the B52s and ended up in Ngawi. We didn’t get lost, but gale force winds put the kaibosh on the concert. I’d never been to Ngawi before. I’d never even heard of Ngawi before. I was actually probably more excited about seeing Ngawi than I was about the concert.

Some stuff I learnt about Ngawi tonight (thank you, internet):

Its claim to fame is that it has more bulldozers per head of population (population unknown, at least by Wikipedia) than anywhere else in the universe. It is remote, foreboding, exposed and its weather can be fairly gross. It is home to fur seals, a shitload of fish and paua. There is a bach called The Hilton and a Shetland pony I meant to photograph but couldn’t find on the return trip.

The Tucka Box sells double D batteries, packets of Maggi onion soup, fishing tackle, Freddos (although Simon ate mine, even though I hadn’t given him permission), cans of pear halves, reduced cream, mini fishing rods, Trumpets, $1 mixtures (the contents of which would have come to at least $1.40 in the city), and that was only the stuff we could see behind the Perspex counter at eye level.

Good times all round. Nothing like an impromptu adventure.

Nothing like getting out of the city and chortling disdainfully to yourself at the sheer patheticness of your big city problems. And then you get back over the Rimutakas, some time around nightfall, and your big city problems come bounding back to you, needy and huge and slobbery, with wide guilt-inducing eyes, like hungry puppies left in kennels for the weekend.

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