Elisabeth Easther talks to Lois Mulvihill of Bike It Now, Clyde.
I grew up on a farm that bordered the Waitaki River in South Canterbury and I never went as far as Christchurch until I was 10. For holidays I'd go to Waihaorunga and spend a week on the farm where my mother was born. At Waihaorunga we did things like ride cabbage trees towed behind the landrover, or dam the creek or slide down hills on cardboard. Our farm was on the flat so we had completely different fun at their place. Kids never get to do those things these days.
After school I worked to save up for travelling and a friend and I went on a 61-day Contiki tour around Europe. We had three nights in each place, one day with the group then one day free to explore. We went to 12 countries and old Yugoslavia was a highlight. Our bus driver took us off the beaten track and all these kids in rags ran out of tin shacks, wanting food and cigarettes. They would've only been about 10 years old. Walking in to the Grand Bazaar in Turkey, men would chase us saying things like, "You are the love of my life". For someone off a farm in little old New Zealand, it was quite out there.
Barcelona was great, we spent a night on the beach drinking sangria out of a bathtub. Going through borders was scary as there were guns galore and one time, driving down a hill in Spain, we lost a bus wheel. It rolled past us and the driver said, 'Ooh look, there's our wheel'.
We spent four months working for a very wealthy family. In 1984 he was the fifth-richest person in England, and they had a farm in Liss, an hour south of London. We took the train to their mansion where they had their own fire engines and all the paintings were alarmed. We met the lady of the house in the kitchen. She was getting soup out of a pot on the stove and was dropping it everywhere. It turned out she was an alcoholic and, as she came to shake my hand, I thought what have I let myself in for? But she was lovely and her husband was horrible.
