Day 5. Alexandra to Dunedin. The day dawned grey and dreary looking. The weather forecast promised us intermittent rain showers and cool temperatures. Oh well we have experienced very good weather up to this point. Just outside Alexandra the ground was exceptionally stony creating some fabulous photos with the many shapes of all the rocks. We were travelling along admiring the beautiful countryside, and covered 40 kms, when we approached the town of Roxburgh, when all of a sudden it hit me, like a smack over the back of the head with a rock, that, while we were heading for Dunedin, it was not the road that we were supposed to be on. I could not believe that I had made this stupid mistake, worst of all I had no one to blame but myself. There was nothing else that we could do, but turn around and head back to Alexandra. Virtually one and half hours lost due to my stupidity. We eventually found the right road and headed towards the small twn of Omakau. From there we continued along a shingle road, bound for the small township of Ophir. We crossed over on this incredible looking suspension bridge with two stone pillars at either end and numerous strands of steel rope passing through those pillars. Across the bridge, on the town side, the road had obviously been blasted through solid rock. I had my wife drive back along this road, with the sheer rock walls and across the bride, while I took some video.(The video turned out better than I would ever have hoped). There was some lovely old stone cottages, in Ophir, probably dating back to the turn of the century, plus a masonry Post Office, built in 1886, that has been managed by women since 1890. It still has its original furnishings and is largely unchanged from the time of its construction. This Post Office was built to serve the goldfields that were close by. We followed the loop back onto the main road and headed for the township of Saint Bathans. By this time the rain was bucketing down. By the time we arrived at St Bathans, it had stopped raining and even a watery looking sun was trying its best to peep through. Two thousand people once lived in what is now, as we found out later, an old town with one surviving operating facility, its pub, the Vulcan Hotel. Time appears to have stood still in this small town, and it took little effort for our imaginations to picture the numerous hotels, (there was once 13), banks, dancing girls and hundreds of diggers, all trying to scratch out an existence. Apart from the hotel there are other buildings that are still as they would have looked in the latter part of the 19th century. Interesting displays can be seen in the old post office and the gold office. We were parked in a car park opposite the hotel hoping to get a photograph. Unfortunately there was a delivery truck parked out front. Rachel went inside to ask the driver how long he was likely to be. She eventually came back and asked would you like to have lunch here, the driver is eating and will be some time yet. I was feeling a bit peckish so I agreed. We were ushered into a beautiful wood panelled dining room, with pink velvet wallpaper adorning the walls. There was a small wooden bar in the corner. This pub had history and atmosphere oozing out of it. The floor boards squeaked when they were walked upon, the pink wallpaper was faded where the sun had been able to get at it and the dining tables were similar to the ones seen in so many saloons in western movies. Any minute now some gunslingers would charge through the batwings, yes they had these here to, with six guns blazing. I could live here. Both of us settled on fish with a side salad and a platter of chips. It was a simple meal but most enjoyable. During the meal the publicans daughter sat down with us and proceeded to tell us the history of the pub. The hotel was built in 1869 and it is remained virtually unchanged to this day. The population of St. Bathans is now 4 and three of these own and work in the hotel. The 4th is an odd job man who mows the lawns and generally keeps the small town tidy. Some of the houses are owned by people who come to St Bathans during holidays or sometimes on the weekends. She then went on to tell us that the hotel is haunted. Both Rachel and I looked at her with obvious disbelief in our eyes. I aren't kidding you she said most indignantly, both my parents and I have all seen or experienced the ghost. She went on to tell us that just the other night, I was here by myself, when all the doors starting opening and shutting, and the books from book shelf were hurled onto the ground. She had both of us, by now, hanging on her every word. I asked were you scared, no she replied, this ghost has never done anybody any bodily harm. She then told us what happened in the hotel that caused this restless spirit to roam the corridors of this hotel. Not long after the hotel was built, a miner had his way with a lady of the night and then murdered her. This all happened in room 1. A few years ago, some workers were cleaning up the local cemetery, when they across an unmarked grave all covered up with plant growth. Apparently permission was given to open the casket and when they did they got the shock of their lives. The corpse was still in good condition and decomposition had not really taken its toll. It was somehow determined that the body was that of the prostitute that was murdered many years earlier. This was about the time when the haunting started at the pub. I looked at the girl who just told this story and their was no hint of a smile. Her mother entered the dining room and I when I enquired whether she had seen the apparition, she replied, on numerous occasions. Rachel and I walked out of the pub, not too sure whether we had been handed a goodly amount of bull, or was their some truth to the story. Intriguing story is it not. We left St. Bathans to see the man made 'Blue Lake'. This lake was once a 120 metre hill, and now it is a 69 metre deep hole. This hill was carved away by miners using the deepest hydraulic mining lift in the world, leaving this enormous hole, a testimony to the miners' toils. This popular lake is today used for ice skating and curling, during the winter months. From the 'Blue Lake', we decided to motor through the Taieri Gorge en-route to Dunedin. We arrived in Dunedin, both dog tired and had trouble finding accommodation for the next two nights. Fortunately, one accommodating motelier let us rent an apartment normally held for long term tenants. It was a two bedroomed modern apartment, fully self contained. The tariff was $84NZ per night. We were very lucky indeed. After stowing all our gear, we went to see the steepest street in the world, Baldwin Street. (gradient to 1 in 2.9) We were too chicken to walk so we drove the car up instead. How people, who live in the street, manage, I certainly do not know. Back to the apartment for a spot of T.V, a bite to eat, and some well earned rest, not necessarily in that order. More Later.........

Regards, Richard Bloomfield.(New Zealand)