When we first got to Turangi we wondered exactly what we had done. We had been led to believe that the town was some sort of tourist Mecca and you could amuse yourself for days. Well, maybe you can during the summer, but on a cold winter's (August) day, you actually can't.
The town was built during the 1960's for a population of engineers working on a nearby hydro electric power station (one of those that they build actually inside the mountain so that you never see it) and it has obviously never gained that bijou village feel. Or rather, has never lost that 1960's industrial feel.
Everything shuts at 5. The woman at the Post Office virtually bundled us out of the door with cattle prods. Earlier, at the tourist information centre, the smiling lady had been very promising. We could go horse riding. We could go quad biking. We could go to the National Trout Visitor Centre.
Well, we didn't do any of that.
We went into the "town centre", the main attractions of which seemed to be..
...and...
We went to New World and I bought a bottle of nice wine and some chocolate. If was only then that the afternoon began to get better. The girl on the checkout asked me if I was over 25, because if you are buying alcohol, they have to ask by law. Now, she was either very thick, or a bit short- sighted (I'll say it before any of you do) but it cheered me up no end. And the sight of a fish and chip shop on the corner run by an Englishman cheered me up some more.
It's called Grand Central and if you ever have the misfortune to be in Turangi of a Thursday evening, it's your only hope. It even says so in the Rough Guide. I think the Maori underneath means "No Curry Sauce"
But we were warm in our fishing lodge...
...and we even ventured down to the river's edge...
I swear to you that if you zoom in, there's someone fishing in that river.
Back to Wellington and civilisation tomorrow.
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