From Dunedin to Pukerangi

The Wingatui Viaduct bridge crosses over the Taieri River on the way to Pukerangi. Photo by David Lansing.

There are several families on the train to Pukerangi. A small boy, maybe seven or eight, quietly walks up the aisle between the seats, eyes bugging out, and, with an older sister, heads for the café car, bringing back a bag of chips and an L&P for his mom. L&P, a sweet soft drink that tastes a bit like a watered down lemonade, is to New Zealand what Coke is to America’s South. Everybody drinks it. It stands for Lemon & Paeroa, Paeroa being the place it was originally made.

The boy begs his mom to let him go outside and stand on the tiny platform between the two cars but she’ll have none of it. I don’t blame her. I’ve been out there and it’s treacherous, what with the wind and the rain and unexpected lurches left and right. I stood out there for maybe ten minutes and the whole time I had my lower body braced against the delicate railing, one hand on my camera the other on the railing.

It felt dangerous, in a way, but also delicious with the wind blowing through the trees which are in full fall bloom and the Taieri River muddy and swollen from several days of heavy rain, swelling the banks beneath us. My face red from the wind, my hands half frozen, I still had a hard time dragging myself back in to the warm coach. The misty light, the earthy smells of farmland, the sweeping views of the gorge outfitted in the oranges and yellows of the forests—I just didn’t want to leave it.