On a journey into nostalgia through the Manawatu, the greenness of the hills, the lush valleys, we arrive at the beginning of the Manawatu Gorge, a place of family memories, old slips and history. The Gorge abounds with stories of hauntings – old Barney the road-man, the coach and four that went over the edge and still gallops through on moonlit nights. And our own stories of skirting slips and of car-sick children. We stop for a while at the start of the track to take some photographs. With a sudden shine of blue and green a Tui alights on the flax in front of us. This time he waits while I raise my camera.
blessings along the way