Public Address | Cafe | Notes & Queries: Waikato Railstop Dawn

David Haywood

Wed, 31 Jul 2013 10:08:28 +1200

I really enjoyed reading this piece, David. Lovely prose! Thank you.

richard maclean

Mon, 29 Jul 2013 16:59:16 +1200

Magnificent read, David. I've been through that bit of swamp on the Overlander – quite creepy.

Ian Dalziel

Mon, 29 Jul 2013 07:47:00 +1200

By George!
Great story David, this is full steam ahead into Morrieson territory, lock up your chickens!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AwOV6N2_RsY
By Howard....

Susan Snowdon

Sun, 28 Jul 2013 21:56:29 +1200

As a child I remember George Wilder's fame. There were kids at school who claimed their families left sandwiches out for him on the doorstep. This was an era and place where doors were never locked and the car keys were left in the car. We lived in the country,…

David Hood

Sun, 28 Jul 2013 20:16:51 +1200

Just on topical prison escapes:
Pink Pather gang makes armed invasion of Swiss prison to breakout members
I reckon that could make "folklore" grade.

Thomas Goodfellow

Sun, 28 Jul 2013 20:03:53 +1200

We stopped by that house once on a family trip and our way down the SH1 shoulder and stepped gingerly onto verge of the swamp, staring a long while past the paint peeling off sagging timbers in the seemingly boundless gloom of drowning willows and ominous crocodilian logs. In my…

Islander

Sun, 28 Jul 2013 19:38:28 +1200

This huge journey across the island is necessary because the West Coast has rough seas and no safe ports. The coal trucks, once emptied, are hauled all the way back to Greymouth to begin the journey again.

I purely love trains, steam trains (travelled on a lot of those in…

BenWilson

Sun, 28 Jul 2013 19:22:35 +1200

Nice story, David. Until last year, I had not travelled on an NZ train since I was about 3. At that age, my parents put me and my 6 year old brother on a train to Whanganui. My grandmother vividly remembers refusing to allow the train to depart until we…

Lilith __

Sun, 28 Jul 2013 19:08:35 +1200

What a brilliant piece, David, thank you.

When I think of trains, I think of holidaying in a bach in Arthurs Pass, where the road and railway lines to Greymouth nestle in the skinny, shadowed valley between the high peaks. Dark beech forest rises steeply on both sides, and icy…

Geoff Lealand

Sun, 28 Jul 2013 18:30:03 +1200

I can recall, in the days before it became a freeway and Mercer became a McDonald's stop, SH1 used to pass by a mysterious house seemingly floating amidst the swamp; like something out of the bayou.

Public Address

Sun, 28 Jul 2013 18:30:03 +1200

Discussion from blog post.