I’m just back from a trip to Dunedin getting my son’s furniture down for his second year at Uni. studying chemistry and physics, but this is his first year flatting.
All I can comment on is I’m witnessing an accumulation of worldly possessions, and this is handy as I’m at a stage of wishing to have less, so he’s taken on a few items; to my delight one being a mahogany dresser ex my mum and dad. We managed to pack all in the camper ‘tho…
Usually the camper’s backdrop is a less urban scene, but good access to his flat [back on the left] was appreciated…
His potted plants were about the first items to be positioned in his new room. I admire his priorities…
I know the weather is a challenge, but I like the Dunedin epitomised by this parkland…
Following on my trend of getting to know this area better, on the way home it was side-track time in the Silverpeaks for a little exploring.
Allegedly there was a track here once, but on this descent to one Possum Hut, apparently no longer useable, it seems the track has been neglected…
There was a lot ambiguity re the area’s signage – maybe because, as witnessed by the below, three organisations seem to have had input…
I’m sure Green Hill was traversed there and back, but I’m still a bit confused as to which one it was…
However top marks to the Dept of Conservation for the best composition of objects relating to guidance…
The weather reality did not live up to the forecast through and somewhere near Swampy Summit there was little creative impulse in the descending mist, so it was “back on the road again” heading home to some evening sun leaving behind the north easterly driving the mist…
There is an interesting article in the Otago Daily Times which sums up the area’s known potential to bring tears to the eyes of many trampers before bedtime. I for one have been embarrassingly be-nighted in the Silverpeaks many years ago, but a bivy bag, stove/food/water and good enough weather made for a comfortable night out, and enabled clear decision making the next morning. So the status of “lost” on dusk, turned to confusion, then to a style of enlightenment as a fine day dawned.
Trampers read up on not getting lost then . . . get lost
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