Warm lasting memory of the North

Mother Nature wasn't entirely welcoming to English novelist James McCreet and his Polish-born wife Monika Stanley, but as they continue south on their way to Bluff via Te Araroa they will have more memories than stinging sou-westerlies on 90 Mile Beach and endless nights in a small tent in the bush to take with them (A novel way to see NZ, November 14).

Their abiding memory, James said, would be Kerikeri's post half-marathon street party, an event that left a positive impression for numerous reasons.

"We arrived in Kerikeri direct from the Raetea Forest, reeking, mud-caked, footsore and in desperate need of a rest," James said, "so imagine our delight when Wendi, our host at the soothing Woodland Motel, told us about the street party.

"Street parties in our part of the UK are typically characterised by a heavy police presence and an inevitable descent into multiple arrests, but our experience of laid-back Northland suggested we might expect something different. Indeed, the whole thing was very civilised from the start."

Issuing bright green 'alcohol' wristbands to control youth drinking seemed eminently sensible, he said, given that this was clearly a community event at which all ages were going to mingle and enjoy the best of the region. He and Monika were especially tempted by wines from local vineyards such as Ake Ake, Morepork, Fat Pig, Bent Duck and Marsden Estate.

For those living in the UK, the nearest decent vineyards were in France.

"Kerikeri impressed us a lot," James added.

"Golly's Little Bookshop is just the kind of second-hand treasure that is rapidly disappearing at home, and I browsed for ages before buying an obscure edition of Anthony Burgess. We also spent time being impressed by the pop-up gallery showing the artwork of local first- and second-year BAA arts degree students. It was mostly abstract painting, but that's what I like.

"As the sun slipped down, most of Kerikeri's 6000 inhabitants and 2500 half-marathon runners seemed to be out on the street. It smelled fantastic: Indian curry, Thai spices, local seafood, crepes, Chinese pork buns and hot dogs ... I had my first mussel fritter - surely a representative Northland dish.

"The music was great too, with something for everyone. We listened to jazz and rock as we strolled, but it seemed the party was up the road where local band Legacy was playing. Here, a multi-generational dance floor was gyrating. Kids did the conga, people in animal suits cavorted, octogenarians wobbled artfully and some liberally-refreshed residents engaged in solo Dionysiac ecstasy.

"The band themselves were a real revelation. Moving fluently through a repertoire of rock, reggae, disco and pop, they kept the party going with remarkable skill. Their rendition of Hotel California did not skimp the complicated solo, and their finale, Purple Rain, was a barnstormer. In these days of talent show mediocrity, it's great to see real music being played with passion.

"As nine o'clock rolled round it was still a happy, family occasion. As far as I could tell there had been no fights, arrests or fatalities. This would be our lasting memory of Northland - a welcoming place with great food, great people and a great community spirit."