by James Callan
Between a super volcano to the north, and the “coolest little capital in the world” to the south, a small town of less than 2000 provides a nice toilet break for travelers on State Highway 1, a perfect place to stretch one’s legs on the long journey from point A to point B. Bladders empty, gas tank full, coffees in hand; spirits are high and the road no longer seems endless, but inviting. Yet before the young couple –the Germans or Canadians or Wellingtonians– before the jet-lagged family from Japan, from America, settle back into their seats to stare out the window for five more hours on their way to the Auckland airport, first: a portrait in front of the local attraction, the giant corrugated iron boot. Continue reading
Hawaii Pacific Review 