Kiwification

photo credit: dogfrog

On Friday we left Napier to spend the weekend with friends in Taupo. Gayle fetched me from work, and we drove straight there. The petrol gauge was less than a quarter full, and so we both agreed that we needed to stop for fuel “soon”. We drove past a fuel station on the way out of Napier, but it was on the wrong side of the road, and it seemed like too much trouble to stop, turn around, and fill up. Thinking like South Africans, we thought “there’ll be another one along the way”.

40km into our trip, with the petrol light on, and the car starting to shudder going up hills, we still hadn’t found another petrol station. We whipped out Lola, our trusty GPS, asking her to “take us to the closest petrol station”. “Sure”, said Lola. “Turn around, and go 45km back to Napier”.

Clearly, this wasn’t an option, since we didn’t have enough fuel to get us another 45km back. Further investigation from Lola revealed that the next petrol station was about 70km ahead, in Taupo itself. We knew we’d make neither, so we decided to drive as far as we could, then either call for help, or leave the car, and hitchhike to get petrol.

Sure enough, about 10km later, our car ran out of fuel, ascending a hill. We managed to turn her around, and roll her down to a “picnic spot”, out of the way.

Turning on the cellphone, I tried to call our friends in Taupo…

No signal.

We tried Gayle’s phone, since mine can be tempermental…

No signal.

Well, we thought, we’ll just have to hitchhike. With handbag and laptops slung over our shoulders, we stood in the rain, bedraggled and alone, sticking our thumbs up in the air, trying to look disarming and friendly.

After about 5 minutes, a car pulled up, and the driver offered us a ride.
They were Czechs farmers, touring New Zealand. The father (unable to speak English and translating via his son) and son pair were driving to Hamilton (at speeds which would have earned them several NZ fines). They were unable to farm in the Czech winter, since ground temperature is roughly -5 degrees Celcius, so it’s common to spend the winter touring, or doing seasonal work. The son was hoping to get a job in Hastings, to pay his fare on a trip to the South Island in February.

After about 20km, we came across an old fashioned roadhouse, which advertised “Food, Petrol, Accommodation”. Thinking ourselves fortunate, we thanked our new friends, and they dropped us off in the car park.

We soon discovered, however, that the fuel pumps hadn’t been used in years, and we still didn’t have cellphone coverage. (Note the pig in the background)

So, after meeting the grizzled locals inside the roadhouse, we stood outside, on the verge of the highway, and resumed our hitchhiking. The sun was out by this time, and we admired the view as we waited for a ride.

After about 10 minutes, a gentleman named “Murray” picked us up. Murray was from Hastings, on his way to Rotorua, passing through Taupo, and offered us a ride. His final destination was actually Auckland, to watch the Police concert with his mates from Rotorua.

We finally arrived in Taupo (only getting cellphone signal about 10km out of town), settled down for dinner, and later went back with fuel to fetch our car.

The lessons I’ve learned from this experience:

• NZ is not like SA. There are not petrol stations everywhere. Fill up before you leave.
• There is no cellphone coverage in the mountains, and in some rural areas. Have a backup plan.
• I will pick up hitchhikers from now on.