THE MOTORIST’S HOLIDAY

Dominion, Volume 22, Issue 72, 18 December 1928, Page 14 (Supplement)

THE MOTORIST’S HOLIDAY

Ever-changing Scenes

To explore fresh ground, to view new scenes, and to discover new beauty, wandering vagabond fashion, where fancy wills—these are the supreme joys that await the owner of every car during the holiday season, whether it be in early first-model or the nearest thing U a home on wheels. There is something of the gipsy in nil of us, and the wonders of the open road are limitless to those who have a “caravan.” The lure of the unknown, which has been 1 calling throughout the year, is stronger at Christmas-time and will not be denied.

One advantage of a touring holiday is the ease of preparation. Tents, fish-ing-tackle, bathing necessities, and the oldest clothes one possesses make the packing problem very simple, unless the family is also in the party, and then, as every motorist knows, the fitting of Christmas holiday luggage into and around a motor-car—which also has to carry the family—is a nerveracking task -• a task that should never be done in the presence of children. Cities are soon left behind, and the summer evening finds motorists camping in the shade of trees, by the side of the sea, or in one of the grassy resorts provided by automobile clubs. These camping-grounds are generally picturesque, sheltered spots where clear water may be obtained in ample quantity and where there are facilities for bathing and sometimes for cooking. If the roar of the surf becomes

monotonous, camp is struck and new scenes sought below mountain ranges or country streams. Roads generally are extremely good, but those who leave the beaten track must expect to

find some rough spot, and even if the usual perfect touring weather is spoilt by rain and the rough spots become muddy ones, the rain and the mud are part of the fun and must bo taken in holiday spirit. Every year New Zealanders awake to the possibilities of the camping holidays, and the procession of cars with their burdens of camping equipment grows longer as It winds away from the crowd. And there is peace for everybody in the secluded mountain valleys, health in the stinging seabreeze, and quiet the shade and the earthy scent of the bush. Then when the peace and the breeze and the quiet become too much for the motorist—or because of urgent calls that are answered with reluctance —he creeps back to the cities, a little shabbier and dustier, but tanned of skin and bright of eye, with pleasant, unchanging memories of the highways and byways behind him.

The husband arrived home much later than usual "from the office.” lie took off his boots and stole into the bedroom. His wife began to stir. Quickly the panic-stricken man went to the cradle of his first-born and began to rock it vigorously. "What are you doing there, Robert?” querried his wife. "I’ve been sitting here for nearly two hours trying to get this baby to sleep,” he growled. “Why, Robert, I’ve got him here in bed with me,” replied his wife. • Then there were words.

Dentist’s Wife—“ Why do you open the door of the patients’ room when I sing?” Dentist —“Want to let the waiters know it isn’t the patients.”