Your Mission should you choose to accept it is......
Well sort of.
No the Mission I speak tell of is the world famous (in New Zealand) Mission Estate concert, where a global celebrity graces the small city of Napier with his or her presence for 2.5 hours of their greatest hits.
Previous musical luminaries have included Sir Tom Jones, his Holiness Sting, Dame Shirley Bassey, Sir Clifford of Richardness, the ever youthful Beach "Boys", and even little old Lulu, bless her.
However this year Napier was to be honoured by the celtic geriatric Sir Roderick McStewart!
Now this event is "de rigeur' to the cream of Auckland society, who dress in exquisite finery and guest in the top luxury lodges, vineyards and hotels that dot the suitably lush surroundings of Hawke's Bay.
For the rest of us mere plebeians we scour the internet auction sites to avail ourselves of the prized tickets, in a quest for the NZ equivalent of Wonka's gilded entry passes. Rentals of campervans soar (bear with, important for later), free accommodation gleaned from friends, relatives, and people we once met at a business conference in 1999. The cheaper the better seems to be the epithet of the weekend.
Whilst the suitably prescient amongst the Auckland glitterati have their PA's arrange flights down to Napier on a smug Air New Zealand flight (who having a monopoly on the route, mysteriously increase their prices for that weekend), the rest of us have to make the long journey down via motor vehicle, Napier having lost its train service in 2001.
The wise and the unwise load up their cars, vans, caravans and vanettes, utes, and 4x4's to make the 6 hour trip along the golden mile to Taupo, and thence over the craggy and visually stunning ranges...
(this is of course being New Zealand; land of hobbits, film extras (otherwise known as the population of Wellington) and dramatically Middle Earth-ish scenery)
....down into the vineyards of the Esk Valley and on into the Art Deco masterpiece of what I call Napier.
Once out on the road on State Highway 5 the fun begins and we wind and twist along the shapely contours of the Kaingaroa Forest road. With the exodus underway a long stream of vehicles stretches back as we climb the hills and sweep over magnificent gorges and bridges.
Now remember those caravans? Progressing regally on the trail, followed by an adoring processional train of less accommodating vehicles. Cars jostle and nervously scout the road ahead for a passing lane or a conveniently long stretch so they can be unshackled from their driving servitude. Occasionally a car breaks out, and flees away from its master , like an acolyte suddenly released from a lifetime of devoted service.
Wahaaayyyyyyy!!..... We're free! The formerly trapped occupants breathe a sigh of relief, and chortle at their driving prowess. Accelerating they speed on, until another slow moving vehicular behemoth inhibits their progress and they return like East Berliners back behind their barrier.
This is of course to be expected when following a large truck or heavy campervan/caravan.
However what is not expected is to be suddenly overtaken at high speed and then have the offending car sudden rejoin the correct side of the road just in front of you, causing a sudden braking.
So imagine the bewilderment and consternation when faced with this bad driving. Nay, not one, twice, or even thrice, but upwards of 10 cars careered out and piggy jumped along the line of traffic as it climbed the Taupo- Napier Hills. Every time we were presented with an interjection of a pair of red brake lights. we were forced to suddenly brake to avoid colliding.
It was noted that bar one exception the cars were expensive and of a Germanic origin: Audi's, Porsche's, BMW's, Mercs, and a Toyota Landcruiser stuffed to the gills with camping equipment. Obviously the last one was trying to save money on his accommodation due to the huge petrol consumption of his Landcruiser.
Oblivious to the danger they raced on with their rapid and erratic pace. It struck me as enormously ironic that should an accident occur we, in our Peugeot 207 GTI (flash but not too flash) would probably be fatally injured. The generous gift of life that had been entrusted into my care so recently, was in all certainty about to be snatched away. The irony of it all. To lose one kidney may be regarded as a misfortune, to lose 2 kidneys looks like carelessness. Carelessness indeed, other motorists carelessness and impatience.
Would my new kidney be suitable to be re donated? I would happily be an organ donor so pass on the gift of a new life, but so far my diabetes have thwarted that noble intention. Perhaps I was only to be a temporary host, keeping the organ alive until it could find a permanent home?
However, thanks to our alertness and patience we avoided any mishap and made it to Napier.
The venue was green, lush (like me!) and as we were family and friends the company was fantastic.
The concert was marvellous, and Rod Stewart was a great showman, supplying his best known numbers.
I enjoyed it even more as I was able to make the trip in the first place, having previously been manacled to my dialysis machine, not really something you wish to bring to a outdoor music festival!
So the freedom of travel really has opened up my eyes to a whole new world, one that was previously a mission impossible.
Perhaps next time we wont take the car, we will go sailing.....we are sailing....
Home again 'cross the sea.
We are sailing stormy waters, to be near you, to be free
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