CRUISING AT TWENTY-FIVE

Auckland Star, Volume LXIX, Issue 286, 3 December 1938, Page 2 (Supplement)

CRUISING AT TWENTY-FIVE

By Cyrano

NO, this is not an article in the Beverley Nichols vein. As you should guess, it has to do, not with youth, for the locust has eaten many of my years, but with speed. It is an article about a holiday, which, since Christmas is still to come, may seem strange, but is appropriate. Wo cannot all take our holidays in late spring or early summer, which I think is a pity; for this, to my mind, is a better season for holidays than sum nii'r, But of course this only means that it suits mo better, and I can imagine that numbers of people would not thank me for the holiday I have just had. They prefer warmth, sun-bathing and boating, arid many of them like crowds thrown in. I like a holiday in November or March-May, because it is cooler and the landscape is more beautiful and resorts are less crowded. I am actually starting to write this article in a. lovely spot where a. world is at my feet; and there are only three other people to enjoy It. That we make a four at brid.V is a. consideration. Travelling Leuurely We started out by car to travel slowly and enjoy ourselves by (lie way. We would stop where we wanted to for a view, have meale where we llkcj, and sleep in towns small as well as big. We would, as far as possible, go without a *et programme, though circumstances required that we visit certain places within a set period. The plan worked well; though not in all respect* as well as we had hoped. Plans rarely do. It is curious how difficult it is sometimes to find a really good picnic spot on a Now Zealand main road, a place where one find# grass, shade, water, privacy, and a spot safe for a fire. If you arc wise you will dine properly in the evening whatever snacks you have had during the day, and the necessity of

being in time for dinner may makf you drive faster than you otherwise would— regretfully on a line evening. But generally speaking we drove slowly, at from 20 to 30 miles an hour, sometimes down to 1.1. I know then: is ft joke about l."> miles an hour; it is said that is the pace at which invariably participants in accidents drive when the accidents happen, that is \v iieit their vehicles are not quite stationary, but it is a fact that we did frequently proceed at th'it pace. I hear someoi:'! ,iy that oats driven at 20 are a nuisance or. the roads; they slow down trat'io. I don't, think we were ever a nuisance, because we we.'e never, or rarely, in a traffic stream. It wasn't Christmas week. We "imply cruised slowly and enjoyed ourselves. We looked at the scenery as we went and pulled up now and then to enjoy the landscape. It was wejl worth looking at. In the fir»t ten miles of our journey we passed miles of glorious broom. Jt was spilt all over the hillfides and hung over the road in superb waterfalls. There can oe nothing more beautiful in the world of gold than this profusion of a common shrub. Our kowhai, splendid though it is, and dear to us because it is our very own, is bv comparison a niggard in spending. Later we drove through scores of miles of the loveliest pasture land. It rolled away on each side as far a« the eye could see; so smooth and patterned, the grass so green, the dotted sheep so white. It was delicious to saunter along on a bright morning and let the sun and the light breeze and the billowed wea of paddock and plantation soak into body and mind. It was like swimming in deep, clear, clean water. In the first three days of our leisurelydriving we overtook two cars. Manycars overtook us. Some drivers, no doubt, were genuinely in a hurry; they had definite business to do at the other end and wanted to get there as quicklv as possible. But I could not help reflecting again on the curious effect motoring has on so many people, an effect exemplified in its extreme form in the preference of the American from'

the Middle West. He liked tlie road* in n certain prairie State—"Two hundred mile* without a bend, fifty mile* an hour, and you can pro to sleep at the wheel. - ' For him those were the joys of motoring. Why do so many people rush through Ix-autiful scenery at from 40 to til) miles an hour? Is there always something urgent at the other end, or is it just habit? A Xew Zealand woman who was driven about Kngland with her husband, used to try to call his attention to a beautiful piece, but by the time his attention had been arrested it was too late. "Never mind, dear, it was in the la«t county." We went over one -tretcli of long, straight, level road.

which made me think of that American. A friend of mine admitted to driving 70 (.>ll it; he was really in a hurry, and there are few crops roads. But there are stock {fates, and my friend seemed slightly aggrieved that a farmer had driven some sheep on to tlje road in front of him so that he only just pulled up. I have been told also of a run of about 130 miles that included this stretch; the distance was done in under three hours. Consider that several towns were on the route, and 1 guess what the highest speed must have been. We were content to amble along this part at 30 or less and enjoy our surroundings. The sweetest music was at the close of the day we drove for Egmont. It is a capricious mountain. You may spend a week or more in New Plymouth and never see it. I was told of a man who went four times to New Plymouth without seeing it. On the other hand you may see it all day, and, as I saw it recently, for several days running. When we drove through Pa tea it was standing slightly veiled in mysterious beauty at the end of the main street, like the Alps that bark the streets of Christrhurch. As we drove on it became clearer, until it was sharply cut right to the summit against the evening sky. Much of the

pasture land north of TVitea was so rounded and smooth that it looked as if it had been polished. The setting sun touched the breasts fit the downs, atxl the hollows were dark shadows, with a line between that looked as if it had been ruled. So one sees hills and valleys painted at time" and wonders if Nature can be quite so sharp and regular in its outlines. Here was the artist's justification. and as we slid through this patterned pasture land hi-torv jogged our elbow —Tempsky Road and a little further on a clump of trees that was labelled Xgut u-o-te-mantl. the scene of the famous Kanger's death. MacDowell took his men through dense forest to attack Titokowaru. and now there are smooth farms all around the battlefield and stretching away to the sea. One is «lad that tlie spot lias been set aside and marked. The cool, still niglit on the slopes of Egmont, with the snowy slopes towering above and the liglit-dotted plain below, ended in the song of bellbirds at dawn, and a glimpse of Ruapehu and Xgauruhoe standing up on the horizon. The world of tar-sealed roHds, tearing traffic and gaudy service stations seemed very far away. Dast and Tidiness A jumble of subjects collects for comment. Is it a fact that heavy cars tend to drive light cars off the" road? At any rate it was our experience and we are not alone that when a car larger than ours approached it seemed to want more than its share. I found it ironically amusing to notice myself minding dust on the few stretches that were not tar-sealed. For my memory goes back to days when dust was the rule in travel, and now I count a mile or two of it a grievance. But drivers of big cars might bear in inind that when dust is on the roads, as it is apt to be on stretches under construction, they may stir up a good deal of it. Having suffered from the clouds raised by some of these travellers, I have wished thev could be made to run for a while on their own tails.

Much of the Xcw Zealand landscape glows tidier every yeai. and L find myself, as 1 did in England, hesitating to disea rd any thi rig by the wayside. The bituminised surface seems to reproach the traveller with all empty cigarette carton in his hand. Yet in a township I saw a man, sitting in a car. use tin- last of liis tobacco from a tin. and throw tile tin into the gutter. Seeing that there are men who do the same sort of thing in public gardens in the cities, this is not surprising, but. could we not have an anti-litter movement that would pledge people not to throw away rubbish in any such places? It is a thought for this holiday season. But talking of tidiness. I must sa v something about the delightful roadside gardens and plantations about Kaiiwi, north of Wanganui. In bends of the road, miles from towns, some person (or persons) has made beds of roses, cannas. hydrangeas, maples and flowering cherries, and set other trees of the same kind by the roadside. It is one of many signs that love of flowers and trees is growing in this country. Motorists might respond to these efforts by travelling slowly enough to observe them. But in the midst of all this beauty seen hour by hour and day by day, "a broken thread of sorrow will run. The woman in "Ye Banks and Braes'' cried out upon the aloofness of Nature from her grief. Why would these banks and braes of Bonnie Doon bloom so failwhen she was forsaken? Her "bonnie bird'' sang sweetly as if false lovers did not exist. To-day the loveliness of rolling sun-glinted downs, cool colonnades of forest, snow peaks rosy in the setting sun, and golden rain of rirorrro and bellbird, seems to deepen the tragedy of a world darkened by barbarism. "The cry of the little peoples goes up to God in vain." It is heard through the purr of the engine as it unfolds some new vista, and breaks into the profound mystery of the silent, starpointed night up there within reach of the snow. However, as the poet says, there is our work here, and our pleasure. When the time comes to take our pleasure by road or water, it is good to remember what Stevenson said, that it is better to travel hopefully than to arrive, or as the golfers have it, "Don't press."