The oldest tavern in New Zealand beckons after a great ride from Okaihau to Horeke, writes Eleanor Hughes.

On first impressions, early morning Okaihau looks as dull as the sky. Boarding covers where windows might have been on the food market. The mechanic is shut. Further along, a cafe is bright and cheery but empty, as is the butchery across the road.

Outside the creamy-painted Okaihau Hall, I read colourful history display boards with hands in my jacket pockets, huddled over, bare knees clamped tightly together. It's not the weather for bike shorts. The town lives up to its name,

Advertisement
Advertisement