“Buddy” did'nt know we were camping on his property until he looked out the window of his house and saw strange lights flickering in his paddock, half a mile away. We had spoken to a chap operating a digger on Buddie's property and he said he thought it would be ok, as long as we “took out our trash”.
“Get out around the back of the hill near those trees where the crazies won't see you” was his advice as I thanked him and headed back to my bike.
We were sitting finishing our meal when headlight beams sliced through the darkness around the side of the low hill which shielded us from the road. Like a possum caught in the headlights, I stood and began walking towards the vehicle which came to a stop about 20 paces from where we'd been sitting. Reflected in the dashboard lights I could make out a man in his mid to late forties, eyes a bid bleary looking as if he'd had a few drinks, I could not see past him to ascertain if he had a gun on the seat!
“We're cycle tourists from New Zealand. Do you own this land” I asked
“Yes Sirr“
“We spoke to the bloke on the digger and he said he thought it would be ok to camp here, is it OK?”
“Yes Sirr, thats fine. Where yaaal from ?”
“We started in Montreal and we're headed for New Orleans”
“Montreal Canada?” incredulously
“Yeah, 8 weeks ago”
“ Yew got ever thin yew want there?”
“Yes thanks, we carry everthing we need, are very careful campers and will leave only footprints”
“Ok Sirr, then yew have a good night”
Then “ Yew say yure frome Ontario ?”
“No, New Zealand”
He turned the ute and bumped back around the track out of the paddock.
We finished our tea, crawled into out tent, read for awhile and were just dozing off to sleep when a glow from vehicle lights lit up the inside of the tent.
Dressed in my cycle touring pyjamas, I was not really in a state to welcome visitors, so I unzipped the tent fly and stuck my head out, the ute was on the far side of the tent.
“Hope ahm not disturbin ya'll, ma wife sent some sausages and pork ribs down for yew” It was our landlord back again.
“Thanks very much that's very kind “ The ute door opened and he made his way around to my side of the tent and handed me an alfoil tray, containing the barbequed food, then hurriedly made his way back to the ute.
“They's a Homecomin Dance on back at the school, I just come on down to see things are all right, hope I'm not disturbin y' all”
“No, that's fine, hey these sausages are really good” They were spicy hot and salty, I passed one into Val – she took a bite and almost caught fire, too hot for her.
“Ah got some bread and mustard here if ya want”
“No, wer're okay, if fact we've not long finished our tea, but I'll just have to have another one of these sausages and the rest will be good tomorrow for lunch”
A long pause then “Well if ya'll right here I'll be goin now, Ya'll have a good night'
“I'm sure we will thanks, night”
The ute rolled off, following the swathe cut by its headlights, but only travelled 20 metres when the tail lights blazed and it backed up to the tent once more.
'I hope ahm not disturbin y'all again, but where 'r yew frome”
I poked my head our again
“No, you're not disturbing us, We're from New Zealand”
“I used ter work urp n Quebec, got a good buddy still up there”
Öh yeah, what sort of work was that”
“Forestry, it's sall forestry round here”
“Are you still in forestry”
“Yeah, I run a logging machine”
Here was my chance to show off my logging knowledge
“Do you operate a feller/buncher”
“Yessir, I do”
“It's all pretty flat land round here I guess
““Yessir, not too hilly, not like Canada. I went to a logging conference up there a year or two ago, they sure know their logging up there”
The conversation went on like this for a while, then went he was quiet and I could see a blue light coming from his cell phone as he opened it and began dialling. Shortly a canned voice drifted over to me, saying that so and so could not take the call now but call back later.
We fancy buddy wanted to check with his mate in Quebec as just where in Canada was this place called New Zealand.
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