24hrs in the Wairarapa - the next 12

7am Him Outdoors is keen to mitigate some of the effects of last night’s alcohol so he gets up early and goes for a run. The minute he steps off the porch, it starts raining. I snuggle back down under the duvet with my book and wait for him to return and bring me a cup of tea. Spoilt? Me?

9am He’s back, I’m up and we have breakfast. The cottage is thoughtfully stocked with fresh bread, home-made biscuits, butter and jams – this reminds me a story a friend told me of when she and her husband were in France.

In the morning she asked for ‘preservatif’, but the owner of the pension looked at her aghast and refused to supply her with any. She and her husband were frowned at throughout their stay and only after they left did they realise that they had not been requesting preserves at all, but rather condoms to accompany their coffee and croissants.

11am We drive out to the Cape Palliser lighthouse. I have a bit of a thing about lighthouses. I believe in the blend of beauty and practicality, and many engineering feats embody this. I also love the romanticism of living in a circular building in a remote location and saving ships from rough seas and wreckers. I thrilled to Daphne du Maurier novels as a kid and was always happy to wander the steep cobbled streets of Cornish towns imagining the smugglers – the hearty tea of scones with jam and cream was also a significant plus I seem to recall.

At Cape Palliser there are no winding streets or handy cafes, but there is a lighthouse with an imposing view over the surrounding coastal scenery; the southern-most tip of the North Island. We march briskly up the 250 steps to admire the lighthouse. As we descend the wooden staircase, a couple with their small child look up, a little daunted. ‘Is it worth it?’ they ask. ‘Oh, yes’ we both answer simultaneously.

11.30am I get out of the car to take a photo of the lighthouse back on the rocks and nearly step on a fur seal. There is an entire colony of them lying about right next to the gravel road. I can’t believe I didn’t notice them before, but now that one of the rocks has moved, I see there are loads of them. Apparently, this is the largest breeding colony of fur seals in the North Island. We stop for a while and watch them snooze and scratch and shuffle.

We examine and photograph a colourful fence studded with buoys at Ngawhi. As we get back into the car, a bloke comes towards us with a dog straining on a chain. He asks if we are lost, but not in a manner which suggests he would be willing to help. We hastily retreat and he stands and watches us leave without a welcome to return any time soon.

The tractors/diggers/graders (I don’t know the correct terminology – it’s boy stuff) are lined up on the beach ready to drag the boats in and out of the waves. We wander amongst them with their grey backdrop and imagine them working hard. Some people want to anthropomorphise them and several have names such as Tana and Tinky Winky.

2pm Before we head back over the hill into civilisation we stop at Featherston. According to the Encyclopaedia of New Zealand, it was ‘until recently… the ugly duckling of south Wairarapa’s towns.’ There is no information as to why the ‘until recently’ bit is included. The town died when the railway closed. The line still dissects the main street, but nothing is happening here. The weather has turned cold and overcast, and the place isn’t exactly inviting.

Nevertheless, we stop for lunch at the Cornucopia Food Store & Café. I think it is the only thing open on this grey afternoon. The soup and bread is very tasty and heartening. We are fortified enough to return to Wellington where I head off to rehearsal.

For more pictures of the weekend - check out my week in pictures