Isolation

Day 34. I did go to a train museum... 

Martinborough to Summit Campsite
Daily total: 53.88km Running total: 2160.85km

Could have easily spent more time in Martinborough. Bruce and Judy were great hosts and the town is beautiful. Old colonial style buildings, a big central park which the town radiates off and an electic mix of cyclists, locals, tourists and bikers. All chilling, doing their thing on this glorious sunny day. Although the Martinborough Hotel was blaring out 1980s and early 1990s 'classics'. Why do we need this at 10am on a Sunday? Why? Confused face.

Why Haddaway's 'What is love?' Martinborough Hotel? Why?

'What is love?'

'Baby dont hurt me'

'No more'

'Whoa woe whoa woe...'

With so many wineries around, it would be so easy to loose track of time...the day was moving on to an acceptable time of day to drink wine (11.30am is acceptable...right?), so I had to leave this relaxing town. Onwards! Wellington is so close now...and I had to tackle the Rimukahi Rail Trail. 

As I was doing the Rimukahi Rail Trail, I thought that I should get some idea of the history behind it by visiting the Fell Engine Museum in Featherstone. Basically a train museum. Yep. I voluntarily went to a train museum. It had a restored Fell Train that was built in Bristol. That is enough train info. There used to be a community that lived at the top where the trains were swapped over. If they did not swapped to the Fell Train, everyone would die horrifically in a hard to reach area. Slow and painful...they should have let me curate the museum. There would have been more explosions and fire and giant robots and this maybe the reason why I am not asked to curate...Right. Focus. Get back on track! I did find a potentially interesting fact, that the side I was going to cycle up, has a gradient of 1:15! I have no idea what those numbers mean. Hence the use of the word 'potential'. Also, it was all gravel and every normal person in the world cycle from the other side of the trail. Which is easier. Pah. I eat hills now...well no. I walked most of it. The hill ate me. 

Nom, nom, nom said the man eating hill.

I reached the former town called Summit, which by some strange coincidence, was at the summit of the hill. Wounder will never cease. There was a campsite called, wait for it, SUMMIT CAMPSITE!!!! I know, the coincidences just keep piling on top of each other...my mind was blown. Oh yeah, here are some views:

View at the Summit Campsite which was near Summit which was at the summit. So many summits all in one place...

And I washed in another river. My own personal river. There was no one else around for miles. I am becoming proper antisocial me...


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