wairarapa – and so she thinks

Cycling to 'Siberia', wheels to wine

admin — Wed, 29 Oct 2014 10:36:00 +0000

‘So just a kilometre from here is the spot they call Siberia,’ Stuart tells me. ‘It gets so windy there that in September a train was blown off the track and ended up suspended, carriages hanging off like a piece of string.’ I am significantly smaller than a train, balancing on a bicycle, and there is a cyclone coming, funnelled through the Cook Straight by surrounding mountain ranges. This doesn’t sound ideal to me. But then for someone who has travelled around the world, covering thousands of kilometres through Europe, Central and South America, on a bike bought for only fifty dollars (and subsequently sold it on after), and confesses that he loves to ‘feel the pain and achievement’ from a good hill, the Rimutaka Incline, part of the cycle trail by the same name, is nothing. Stuart runs Green Jersey, a cycling tour company out in the Wairarapa, a region just outside of New Zealand’s capital city Wellington, and he’s offered to show me around.
The Rimutaka cycle trail is a 113 kilometre long path that loops around the Rimutaka range, east of Wellington. One of New Zealand’s Great Rides, and a part of Nga Haerenga – The New Zealand Cycle Trail, it takes riders from Petone’s foreshore across the Rimutaka Range to Wairarapa’s wild south coast. Along the way cyclists go through the thickly wooded Rimutaka Forest Parkand, along the gentle gravel trail of the Hutt River, mouth of the Hutt River at the historic site of the Hikoikoi pā, one of the largest Māori settlements in pre-European New Zealand, hills formed by the country’s seismic shifts, rugged farm tracks, right out to the tumultuous seas of Ocean Beach and Turakirae Head, home of the largest seal colony in the Wellington region, and the trail’s end at Orongorongo River.

But we begin with the rail incline – a steep hill that trains struggle with. The Rimutaka Rail Incline is part of an old railway line connecting Wellington and Wairarapa, with 4 tunnels, 2km single track, 6km double track and 15km of unsealed gentle slope on the Hutt Valley side. It runs from Cross Creek in the Wairarapa through to Summit, at the top, funnily enough, the highest point 18km trail, along rugged paths and gritty trails. A particular section, the fell, is famous. The 4.8 km 3 ft 6 in gauge railway line between Cross Creek where we start, and Summit, on the original Wairarapa Line, has an average the grade is 1 in 15, which is pretty steep, as I see from the exhibits at the nearby Fell Museum in Featherston, home to the only remaining Fell Engine in the world. After every downhill journey the brakes on the engine had to be replaced, having been clinging on to the track so tightly, and the worn metal is there for evidence.
New Zealand seems to be going through a phase of turning disused railway lines into cycle trails, right from the Huaraki in Northland down to the Otago trail bisecting the South Island. It’s easy to understand why – scenic and sensible in terms of getting from you a to b, as well as readily routed, the trails are an ideal way to see the country.
Or at least that is what I tell myself at the start of the trail, as Stuart is unloading our bikes and packing our bags full of cereal bars, before we set out on this famous incline. It’s not as bad as I fear. Cyclone Luci appears to have drifted past us, and the main result of the breeze is a delicious scent of grass and trees wafting past. Although at a steep gradient for trains, even my little legs are able to cope, once the gears have kicked in. We’re only going a short way, up to the Summit, but it’s the toughest part – as those train brakes are evidence to.
When we reach the 576 metre Summit Tunnel, we turn the cycle lights on, although we soon switch them off again for fun. There’s something almost existential about cycling towards a hole of light, we no idea just how close other people or objects are to you. The practical and philosophical nature starts to unnerve me a little, and evidently Stuart too, as he suggests that we flick the beam back on again.
At Summit I am rewarded by flushing toilets, hurrah, but more importantly, a sense of achievement. The clouds block most of the view, but it’s rolling hills and farmland all the way from here and through to Cross Creek where the trail opens out in the ‘agricultural breadbasket’ of the Wairapapa.

I’m short on time, so to show me around, Stuart drives me to Ocean Beach, an area of ridged coastline formed only seven thousand years ago. It’s still a workout though, the steep stairs up to the lighthouse leaving us both breathless. We stand for what seem like ages, talking life and love, and cycling – the broad skies and brash waves, white tops pounding the rocks and gusting winds wailing around us seem to incite that sort of big thinking.
As this is just a taster for me, we go and taste: as well as fine scenery, there’s the option of trying some of New Zealand’s finest wine along the way. The Wairapara is known for its Pinot and Sauvignon Blanc, courtesy of low rainfall, hot summers, and long dry autumns, and Green Jersey can either cycle with you, sort a cycling route for you, or pedal you around in their rickshaw as you get slowly sozzled on samples. The main town for the wines is Martinborough, and the tiny spot (only 1330 full time inhabitants, rising to up to 30,000 at weekends) is unique in that all the wineries are accessible from the town centre without a car. Founded by a man named Martin, the roads span out from the centre in the shape of the Union Jack, and are named after places that he had visited – and so it is that Kansas is on a diagonal to Strasbourg, and Cambridge cuts across New York. We stop for tastings and lunch at Poppies.
On the way I ask Stuart why he chose to Poppies. He sighs. ‘Everyone wants to marry Poppy.’ He’s right. I want to marry Poppy, although she is happily wed to childhood sweetheart Shayne, after a chance meeting whilst working at a wedding twenty years after they had parted as teenagers. Standing in the contemporary grey walls that feel comforting with their glorious light bulb chandeliers, piled barrels and grand Italian opera playing, she oozes enthusiasm about the vines, their grapes, and ultimately, their wines. The Pinot Gris in particularly is sweet, fresh, and the perfect accompaniment to a tasting platter which tumbles with stuffed vine leaves, fresh salmon, roasted peppers, homemade hummus, frittata, seared courgettes, and toasted flatbread.

Even without the wine diversion, I can understand why this part of the country is a haven for Wellington weekenders. Windy, steep, and sometimes too much for a train, but beautiful, vibrant, natural and exhilarating for cyclists of all skills. Inhale deeply, press down with the legs, and roll through some of New Zealand’s most beautiful landscape.
There’s a glass of wine waiting at the end.

I travelled with Green Jersey, who organise guided and supported tours along the trail and local wine regions, over one or more days. http://www.greenjersey.co.nz/ Located in the Wairarapa, they are an hour train journey or drive from central Wellington, and can meet riders from the station. They use Avanti Discovery 8 bicycles, and provide helmets, pumps, full repair kits, maps as well as food and all accommodation bookings, depending upon tour choice.

The Rimutaka Trail

admin — Fri, 09 May 2014 15:55:18 +0000

So just a kilometre from here is the spot they call Siberia,’ Stuart tells me. ‘It gets so windy there that in September a train was blown off the track and ended up suspended, carriages hanging off like a piece of string.’ I’m significantly smaller than a train, balancing on a bicycle, and there is a cyclone coming, funnelling through the Cook Straight’s surrounding mountain ranges. This doesn’t sound ideal to me. But then for someone who has travelled around the world, covering thousands of kilometres through Europe, Central and South America, on a bike bought for only fifty dollars (and subsequently sold it on after), and confesses to me that he loves to ‘feel the pain and achievement’ from a good hill, the Rimutaka Incline, part of the cycle trail by the same name, is nothing. Stuart runs Green Jersey, a cycling tour company out in the Wairarapa, a region just outside of New Zealand’s capital city Wellington, and he’s offered to show me around.
Read more here.

Up With People, down in the Wairarapa

admin — Thu, 03 Apr 2014 02:44:52 +0000

‘In any town there’s a kid with a guitar.’ we both say, gulping down coffee in the early morning sun. As well as both being convinced of this fact, Mark Rogers and I both believe that this, and a bit of ‘get up and go’, is all that is needed to start gigs in any area – no matter how unlikely a hotbed of live music it may seem. Take the Wairarapa, the region in which Masterton, the sleepy town in which we meet, sits. A population of just over 36,000, made up of four main towns, it’s a small spot around an hour or so from New Zealand’s actual and cultural capital of Wellington – but where lots is happening.
When I was invited to meet the manager of a gig promotions company around here, I was a little unsure. What could possibly be happening in these here parts? Three men in a barn, one with a handmade guitar? Or at the very best a substandard covers band playing the church hall. Oh Francesca, stand corrected. The Wairarapa is a creative hot bed of arts and culture across all forms, and music is no different. But it did need someone to give it a push, to take the ‘wouldn’t it be nice’ laments and make something happen. Enter Mark Rogers, his sidekick Katie Grantham, and their outfit Up With People.

Mark had been in the game a while before starting Up With People. Throughout our chat he mentions, not drops, names such as Alan McGee, Goldrush, Lewis Durham (of Kitty, Davis and), former editors of Mojo, labels like Poptones – and The Clash. It was this band that signified Mark’s entry into the music scene, when he arrived in London in 1981, 16 years old ‘bright eyed and clueless’ and ‘had a fucking ball,’ hanging around with Strummer in squats. He moved to Brixton and had his eyes opened by the multicultural society, riotous punk scene, newfound freedom – and obviously pretty soon dropped out of college and entered the music world. Like most music fans he would do whatever he could; a bit of flyering, roadieing, PR, you name it, just to be submerged in the thrilling scene.
‘I didn’t have a bloody clue, but I just got on with it.’ he says. Even getting on with it to the point of calling up mid 90s Mojo editor Matt Snow asking ‘So how do I get a review then?’ Something which sounds like ridiculous, and ridiculously sensible, thing to do. This was at the time that Mark successfully coined the phrase ‘country music for the Nirvana generation’ when speaking with The Independent about his new signing The Handsome Family for his Loose Music Label. ‘It was sort of about rootsy music without the big hats.’ he explains.
A vibrant and vital time indeed, and one that taught him not only the necessary skills for success in the music business, but tenacity and perserverance, as well as the importance of taking responsibility. ‘Everyone complains that nothing is happening, but that’s it. You just have to get on with it. It’s like Sniffin’ Glue, that zine from Danny Baker. On the cover there were those three chords and then scrawled ‘this is a chord, this is another, this is a third. Now form a band.’ Apparently this is an oft incorrectly quoted anecdote, with the original drawing being in punk zine ‘ Sideburns, but you get the point.

A Night At The Museum

But everyone had a great time in music in the 80s and 90s in London. What about now, here, in the Wairarapa. A host of links and pals in the business means that Mark has managed to bring both big international names and local legends to the area, in an eclectic mix of both artists and locations. The first night that he and Katie organised was called Night At The Museum, in the local Aratoi Museum, and by all accounts the evening in the church setting was magical. Later, The Datsuns played the Masterton venue King Street Live (‘It went OFF.’) and recently a Pink Floyd covers band named Eclipse performed a sell out show, with an ‘awesome light show’ at Stonehenge Aotearoa, a ‘weird and awesome bunch of rocks out on a hill near here. It’s crazy.’ The last tour was from blues roots performer Pokey La Farge, who by simple reasoning (i.e ‘New Zealand’s a long way so you might as well make the most of it’) Mark brought to Masterton on the condition that if he was to organise and promote the rest of Pokey’s tour in Auckland, Wellington and at Womad this small gig had to be played.

Eclipse rocking amongst the stones

The more I learn about the Wairarapa the less surprised I am that success is being seen. Over at Hedley’s book store manager David has just been ‘out talking photos with Ringo.’ James Cameron lives down the road, and Peter Jackson calls it home. Pip’s mum makes amazing cakes in the local bakery – ‘Pip’ being more commonly known as Ladyhawke. Jermaine Clement, from Flight of the Conchords, went to Masterton’s Makoura College, and a 2009 fundraiser from the duo raised $70,000 for the school. To say it’s a hotbed of activity would be an understatement – but the activity is understated, genuine, and creative.
The most inspiring out take from chatting with Mark, despite his evident success in the music business and what he and Katie have achieved with Up With People is that he genuinely believes that anyone in Masterton could have started something. ‘People overemphasise things. Find a band. Find a venue. Put it on.’
All it takes is a kid with a guitar, and a little passion.