That squiggly white road to the plateau is what we walked today. 12,387 steps and 100 floors (or 1000 steps up), according to the altimeter built into Art's new fitbit. Compare to the John Hancock at 1632 stair steps. Whew.
At least we started with a good breakfast. We have an electric kettle in our room to make early coffees and a small fridge for our traveling food and cream. It's a treat to walk a few steps to a beautifully prepared meal, the eggs clearly pastured and the bread from a well-known bakery in New Plymouth. This is NZ's bacon. When done right it tastes like a luscious smoked ham, and this did.
It was overcast but thinning when we set out. We're walking on a park road (happily mostly free of traffic) because yesterday's piston-pounding was enough of that for our four legs. What we suspected but didn't know for certain was that half this walk was entirely uphill, back and forth on the snaky road, pulling ever upward.
We could have driven, but where's the fun in that. About halfway there, sans raincoats because it's mild out today, it started spritzing, getting heavier bit by bit until it was finally flat-out raining, the wind picking up, as we reached the plateau inside a cloud.
Hey, where's the summit?
Same shot via my friends at the Dept of Conservation. Cue Barbra: on a clear day...
My old possum sweater comported itself nicely, keeping the wet sitting atop the fibers. Art's wearing his nice new dry possum sweater in this picture, made during the apres portion of our day, green tea sipping in the warm lodge.
"You walked today?" the friendly proprietor asked. "Nicely done!"
April Rain Song
By Langston Hughes
Let the rain kiss youLet the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain.