Takaka, Hippy Haven

As I parked the car on the main street in Takaka, I was almost knocked down by a grey bearded man on a unicycle juggling four orange balls as he streaked up the road. Welcome to Takaka, a home from home for retired New Zealand hippies. The main street is full of shops selling jewelry and various hippy artefacts. We had lunch at The Dangerous Kitchen, then passed by the village green where a girl band was singing as part of the local Mardi Gras. After that we made our way to this Internet cafe for a connection.

The trip back to Takaka was along the same gravel road, but this time, without all the baggage and supplies the car didn't ground on the exhaust pipe all the time.

Yesterday, we walked out to Tonga Beach, a huge stretch of golden sand, lapped by a warm blue sea. The wind was blowing up quite a bit but we found some sheltered shade for a sleep after our sandwich lunch - Tom's walking lunches are notoriously "a cheese and a bread", made a bit more interesting by a slice of tomato. But it does satiate the appetite at the time. After the beach we walked back via the Aweroa Lodge for beer and email. Another day had almost slipped by.

But not quite, because bizarre event took place after we returned home, when we were invited to a neighbouring bach across the inlet. Expecting a glass of wine, we were treated to a variety of cocktails, served by Georgina, the 18 year old daughter. For Christmas she'd been given a cocktail book and was working her way through the list. And of course, as is usual with cocktails, they didn't taste of alcohol but were in fact highly intoxicating. It was a somewhat disorganised trip back in the little yellow boat. I slept very soundly last night.