At first I thought Roger might have thought me a bit odd. He’d wandered into the campsite kitchen as I was in talking aloud to my small computer. Gesturing a little as I did so. Animated. Quickly explaining I was recording a piece for local radio.
He was from Birmingham. Goldsmith by profession. Not just jewellry but higher end object d’art. Well-travelled. Europe certainly. Had taught himself German. Could get by in Norwegian. But felt his Danish had faded a bit now. Just a few words. More than I’d ever manage.
Roger had been visiting his daughters. One in Australia, the other in New Zealand. Now spending some time exploring. Hired a car and bought a tent. We exchanged a few suggestions on places to stop along the coast. My favourites like the St Lawrence wetlands. Did he have the map of Queensland’s free sites? Yes. He did. I shouldn’t have been surprised. The attention to detail I suppose you’d expect of a skilled craftsman.
But it was his experiences of New Zealand that had me most intrigued. I’d begun to toy with not visiting. Partly focus. It hadn’t ever actually been part of the original plan to go there. And cost. Flying there with a bicycle exorbitant. And I was still smarting from the similarly priced cost of living in Australia. But Roger had me reinvigorated. Much cheaper there, he said. And an excellent network of hostels and public transport. Far better organised than here. Affordable. Makings of a cunning plan….
