Jessie Casson

I feel like we are in a time warp outside of the box. We do not travel at the pace of tourist, there is no sightseeing and little eating of ice creams. We do not have the routine of the 9-5 but move as the book dictates, making sure we are not behind schedule – 3 people a week, we must get 3 people a week. Typing up the interviews consumes the evening but by the time Dylan has decided it is dark enough to go to sleep it is almost 10pm. A huge break though occurred tonight with some freshly purchased black material. The material was pegged outside over all windows that shine into his wing. He pulled back the curtain and exclaims “it’s dark!” Hurray.
I do not complain about our time bubble that envelops us. It is enjoyable to be out of synch with the other people around us. It makes life seem almost dream like. We are on a mission to make a book.

It started raining the day we arrived in Dunedin and carried on persistently the next day. We realised after much hunting that Dylan’s anorak really hadn’t been packed and there are only so many things that can be done in a caravan before all parties go mad. After driving around the city for a while trying to find a double space to park in we finally pulled up beside ‘Bargins’ a second hand shop and I spent the best $1.20 I have ever spent. Straight out of the 1970’s, I reckon, and perfect for all activities when wet. Jobs a good ‘un.

Today we are in Naseby where I photographed a world champion curler and tomorrow we head towards Oamaru to meet Diana who shows cats and is very kindly letting us park our caravan in her garden.

20kms out of Invercargill Oyster opening winner’s wife called to say Keith had returned from fishing. So I decided to head back to Bluff the following day leaving Matt and Dylan to wash and clean the caravan. Matt is a better caravan husband than I am ever a housewife. The bed covers are washed more frequently and dinner is served, plates are washed and nappies are changed without the same huffing and tutting that accompanies my chores.

The trip back to photograph Keith was well worth it as I returned with 2 crayfish, 4 blue cod and a bag of organic vet. We ate well that night washing it down with some Sauv blanc.

The last 4 days have been spent ignoring the book and enjoying some chill out time at the Caitlin’s Country Music Festival. We arrived on Thursday for the main event on Sunday. (more…)

We have just left Bluff. After 2 days of unsuccessfully trying to track down the Oyster shucker competition champions we decided to cut our losses and head North. Yesterday was our first day of solid rain. We hung out in the caravan and by 3pm we were bumping into each other and tensions were high. The only place for some light relief was the local pub.A few G & T’s and pints later Matt had beaten every local in the bar at pool and was on the verge of being chased out of town and Dylan was helping an old lady in the gaming room. It was time to leave. Our visits to various local drinking holes have highlighted the benefits of a high bar stools, a glass of lemonade and a straw for keeping a 2yr old out of trouble for about 30 mins.

I write this with a backdrop of dramatic mountains beside a clear running stream 30kms North of Gore. We are the only people spending the night with this beautiful view just sharing the field with 400 odd sheep. We have had an indecisive day. First we headed out to Cattle flat, our resting place now, then we couldn’t find the right road, became wimps and couldn’t cope with the high winds so turned around back to Gore. I called Ray to tell of our change of plan. He sounded hugely disappointed saying there was no wind at their farm, we were almost there and it would be such a shame if we didn’t make it… I felt we might miss out on something so we turned again towards Cattle flat. It turns out that we are their first guests since advertising with the NZ motor caravan association two years ago, no wonder they sounded disappointed. Ray and Denise own the field and tonight they are taking us to a stag auction. I will continue writing when we return.

We almost bought 5 fine stags because Matt scratched his nose at the crucial point in one auction. We learnt that these deer are being bred for the velvet that grows on their antlers. Their antlers are crushed down and sold in China for medicines and their aphrodisiac qualities. And I thought it was all about venison sausages.

It may be a bold statement with eleven weeks still to go but it feels like broken windows are old news now.