Wedderburn Cottages

You are currently browsing articles tagged Wedderburn Cottages.

Stuart Duncan


Stuart Duncan

Stuart Duncan on his ranch. Photo by David Lansing.

Last night while we were waiting to sit down to dinner at the Wedderburn Tavern, a burly man with a crooked nose came over and introduced himself. He was Stuart Duncan. He and his wife, Lorraine, own the Wedderburn Cottages, where we’re staying, as well as the 4,500-acre farm it’s situated on. Stuart’s a friendly chap, as are most Kiwi, and, after I bought him a Speight’s, gave me a rundown of his family history in the area. He told us he’s a fourth-generation Otago farmer. His great-grandfather arrived from Scotland in 1863 during the Otago gold rush. Thirty years later, after the gold had petered out, he bought land that is now known as Penvose Farms where Stuart’s parents still live. Stuart bought the farm across the gravel farm road where he and Lorraine and their three children live and where we’re staying. Between Stuart and his parents they’ve got 6,500 breeding ewes, 130 Angus cows, and 450 red deer.

The cows were a good story, Stuart said. They bought them knowing nothing about dairy farms. Stuart’s father, Graeme, thought his son was crazy. “What Duncans know is sheep,” he told him. Still, Stuart bought the dairy. Then again, when his father first heard about turning the old railway that went through the middle of his farm in to a cycle trail back in the early 1990s, he wasn’t too keen on that idea either. Stuart and Lorraine could see the value in it, however, and got behind it a hundred percent. They were one of the first families in the area to offer accommodations.

“The rail trail probably saved the community,” says Stuart. “Just before they built it about all that was left of Wedderburn after the closure of the school, the post office, and the garage was this pub which, frankly, was struggling.”

Not now. Even though it was a Monday night, the place was jammed, mostly with folks who, like us, were cycling part or all of the Central Otago Rail Trail.

Stuart finished his beer and said he had to get back to the farm. Before he left, he shook my hand and thanked me for coming and staying on their ranch. No, sir, I said. Thank you. And I meant it.


Tags: , ,


Wedderburn cottages

The gloaming over the sheep ranch at Wedderburn in Central Otago. Photo by David Lansing.


We’re in Wedderburn, 15 kilometres northwest of Ranfurly, which doesn’t really tell you anything, does it?  Well, we’re out in the wop wops. That’s what Kiwis call the middle of nowhere. If there was one piece of information I could provide to give you a better understanding of Wedderburn it would be this: Wedder is a medieval word from Northumbria (what is now England) that means “castrated sheep.”


I’m not sure why I think it is important to know that Wedderburn means castrated sheep but it is. So we’re in the wop wops in a place named after a medieval word meaning  Castrated Sheep and it is damn cold. Are you getting the picture? No? How about this: There is nothing here but muted green rolling hills which are speckled with white wooly balls that turn out to be sheep. There’s a farm on one side of the road, which is where we’re staying tonight, and a tavern on the other, which was built in 1885, and that’s it.


I am sleeping in a small cottage on the sheep ranch and it is so cold (close to freezing) that the first thing I did was turn on the bathroom heater hoping it might help take the chill off my room. Then I poured myself a shot of bourbon from my flask and sat on the edge of my bed, sipping my bourbon and staring out the window at the purple and orange gloaming over the darkening hills and the red barn across the way.


There’s no noise here except for the distant bark of an unseen dog. It’s not until you’re at a place like Wedderburn that you remember what silence sounds like. It’s startling.


I pour myself another finger of bourbon. It is almost dark now. I hear the crunch of feet on gravel but I don’t see anyone. The dog has stopped barking. It’s about time to change my clothes and head on over to the Wedderburn Tavern for dinner. Soon. But not just yet.



Photo by David Lansing.




Tags: , , , , ,