Marlborough Wine and Food Festival

It is a late afternoon in February and Harry and I are sitting in the sun outside our motel.  Well partly, in the sun, there is no shade for our feet.  It is a lot warmer than it was this morning in Picton.

As I sat sunning myself I remembered the day the phone rang.  I was trying hard to concentrate on work and Harry's phone broke the silence.  A few mumbled sentences later Harry got off his squeaky office chair and came up the stairs.  I looked up, not really wanting to be disturbed from my spreadsheets and notes (yeah right).  

"We have won a prize to the Marlborough Wine and Food Festival" he said with a grin that reached from ear to ear.  It includes taking the car over on Bluebridge, a cabin, two nights accommodation and entry into the festival.  

Friday morning arrived.  We drank luke warm tea as we waited in line to drive on to the ferry. A cabin meant I could sleep while Harry wandered around the boat and read magazines.  

A walk along Essons Valley in Picton followed by a bagel at a cafe and then we arrived at our motel. Friendly staff, clean and homely.  Milk, tea and coffee and all the other stuff you need.  

There are a few signs around - about cooking smelly food on the barbeque and not using bathroom towels for the pool etc.  There is something about signs.  Most homes don't seem to have them (except when we do not want our adult sons to eat the food in the fridge).  Signs make me feel I am on holiday and not at home.  And people do read the signs.  While lazying in the pool we noticed a couple of residents finding a work around to the sign. 

"Please do not use bath towels for the pool.  Pool towels cost 50 cents and are available from reception".

Instead they walked to the pool with no towel, left the pool all dripping and stood in the doorway of their motel asking a person inside to hand them the "bath towel".  Would it would be different if the towel was free (bearing in mind a lot of people don't carry cash anymore)?  

At the pool we spoke to another recipient of the Bluebridge generosity (also from Wellington). He went off to Havelock for dinner to sample the mussels and we wandered to the pub just down the road.   

Saturday dawned.  Perfect weather, sunny with a few clouds and a light breeze (that did strengthen during the day).   Our first stop was at the local shops, where I found a wallet in the car park.  People were queuing at the bus stop for a ride to the festival so I wandered over and with a "loud haler" voice called out for Ryan.  Ryan wasn't there. In the end the wallet found its way to the Countdown lost property - hopefully Ryan finds it by retracing his steps.  

Donned in hats and with bags and chairs over our shoulders, we wandered around and found a place under a marquis (plenty of shade and seating) perfect for drinking mocktails, eating throughout the day (burgers, weiners, crepes and a salmon smorgasboard), listening to music (recommend Shaun Preston is invited to entertain the crowds next year) and watching people.  

The festival really is a fashion scene - anything goes.  Vibrant and not so vibrant dresses (short, long and in between), hats, comfortable shoes (mostly), and men in bright shirts, some with matching shorts. 

It was 4.00 pm and we suddenly felt it was time to go.  We got a refund from our "wrist wallet" (no cash or cards used at the event), was breathalyzed as we drove out of the car park and went to a local supermarket for a snacky dinner, then the pool.

We arrived back to find that Linda and Steve from the motel had left us a big box of chocolates.  An unexpected finish to our weekend away courtesy of Bluebridge. It was a great weekend. Thank you.