2 Northern Advocate Saturday, October 15, 201648 Hours/Cover Story

SAMHUNTfromSaltRiverSongs

1.Never the sparkling

watersor the beautiful daughtersas sparkling as they be —it’s a muddy creek for metwisting and turningon Kaipara timefloating down stream.On the next tide,

returning.

2.The Landing built roughlywhere early settlers

landed —months at sea behind

them,more months’

uncertainty.They ended up in a landthey never had in mind.I’ll be leaving by the

Landingon Kaipara time.

3.A fisherman from Pahigot a mermaid in his

net —good as a man can getwhen he falls in love at

seaon Kaipara time,the nets well set: that,and immaculatetiming of tides.

6.I see you up in town,we meet on the street:good to see you I

say,you say it’s good

to see me.You’re moving

east you tellme.

I wish you a clearsea . . .

meantime,Kaipara time,

it’s a muddycreek for me.

(Salt River Songs,publishers Pottonand Burton)

EbbandflowofThepaparazzi have been

pesteringPaparoa—or at leastwriterLindyLaird andphotographerMichael

Cunningham checkoutwhatthe town looks likewith a fresh

coat of lippie.

PICNICTIME:

Residentsfrom

KaurilandsSkillsCentre

at nearbyTokatokaenjoy their

weekly picnicat Paparoa.

MOBILE: DraperRobynSkeltonsays the town’s

population is“verymobile”

thesedays.

THE scuttlebuttis that Paparoa— population300 on a bigday— ishaving a bit ofa fling with

Auckland.Paparoa is one of severallittle old towns that havedischarged their earliersettler duties and now perchunfussily at the head of theKaipara’s salt water rivers.The townswere once the

landing places in a roadlessworld. Long before pioneersarrived in sailing ships— thebushmen, millers,missionaries, traders,entrepreneurs and farmersettlers—Maori paddledtheir waka on the longfingers of the big-handedharbour.In places where another

race of adventurers wouldland, those first peopleplanted kumara, ate fat fernand kai moana, politickedand partnered, wagedwar,nursedwounds and grudges.The boatyards and timber

mills, the stockyards, dairyfactories and railway of alater time are nearly all silentnow.State Highway 12 isn’t so

quiet; it’s a roaring chainlinking commerce, primaryproduce, hungry Auckland,flash-harryMangawhai, findme if you can Hokianga andtakeme as you findme FarNorth.But Paparoa’s valleys and

peninsulas fatten just aboutasmany a lifestyle block asfarm stock these days, andthe town is only a lunch dateaway frommany-where.

WEKNOWwe’re onthe right track as wecome in through the

side door, having taken theOakleigh route fromWhangarei rather than the

state highways. There’s anold dishwasher wedged in atree in a roadside paddock.Cute.We’re way above aflood line.We come across a classic,

red andwhite post-pioneerpost office-cum-B&B, amix ofweatherboard do-ups anddone-ups, a woodworker’sshop and opposite, up HookRd, Christ’s own smallholding.Among the onion flowers,

reeds, weeds and funereallillies, sheep graze in the old

Methodist cemetery. One ofthem rubs its bum on a tiltingheadstone. Fiftymetres upthe road, the Anglicanchurch looks farmorepastoral, less pasture-al.Down on themain drag,

the township spreads itselflanguidly between centuries;SH12 carving its waybetween charming colonialand charmless newerbuildings, olive colouredmangroves and paddocks sogreen it hurts your eyes.There’s a general store,

which survives despite thepull ofWhangarei’ssupermarkets. There’s aheritage bank building thathas had a couple ofreincarnations as cafe/bar.There’s the flat-toppedCruisers Bar that apparentlypumps at night and— this isno joke— the revival of thePaparoa Hotel into acelebration of the 1950s.One local woman is

literally stepping up to theplate and plans to open anoutlet for her current online

Saturday, October 15, 2016 Northern Advocate 348 Hours/Cover Story

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Paparoa

THERE’SAREALLYGOODCOMMUNITYSPIRITHERE.

PLENTYTODO: Signs of atownspirit.

business, buying and sellingold china. There’s an artgallery in the former districtcouncil office.

SKELTONS PaparoaDrapery is something ofa legend. The inimitable

Doreen Skelton ran it foreverbut now her daughter Robyn— “born and bred here”—sells the school uniforms,workwear and otherclothing, the haberdashery,china, garish decorations,bits and bobs.“The population is very

mobile these days,” sheconfides. “You used to knoweverybody. Now you drive up

the hill and think ‘I have noidea who lives in there now’.“People come in and after

you’ve seen them a couple oftimes you think, ‘theymustbe new locals’.”Pork farmers and several-

generation locals, SallyTaylor puts out themonthlyPaparoa Press newsletterwhile husband GrahamTaylor is themainmanbehind Progressive PaparoaInc.

They’ve witnessedmanychanges in their neck of thewoods over the years, andseen perennial concernssprout— such as “will therebe any new volunteers comealong to do the communitygardeningwhen the currentlot get too old”.It always comes right in

the end. “There’s a reallygood community spirit here,”Sally says.Graham and co organise

the weekly SaturdayFarmers’ Market. Many’s thetime they’ve asked people ifthey should call it off and hada resounding “No!”. Stallholders are local foodproducers, usually sellingfish, oysters, olive oil, veges,honey, plants, coffee, bread,mussel fritters, bacon andegg sandwiches.They’ll all be out at the

Village Green onNovember 5 forthe ProudlyPaparoa day ofgarden, art andheritage trails,community groupstouting their goodworks, localbusinesses puttingon their game face.Customers will

be the fulltimelocals, highwaytraveller andweekenders frommainly Aucklandcoming to theirsheds turned intobaches, bachesturned intoholiday houses,boat housesturned into beachhouses, large

holdings chopped into smallholdings.It’s part of the old and the

new, an ageless rhythm lifein the gentle valleys andhills, and along the wintergreen and summer flaxen,mudflat fringed salt riverpeninsulas.Dress it how you like, it’s

unlikely this place will evercompletely thin themud inits blood, shed the salt fromits skin.

TASTETEST: KevinCholmondeley-Smith, finding the level.

Let’sdothetimewarpagain

THE middle-of-the-roadPaparoa Hotel isn’tpretending to be younger,or even older.

The pub is stuck with itssquare, no-nonsense mid-1950sface, says manager KevinCholmondeley-Smith.

“It’s an interesting building inthat it was built for the times and itdoesn’t suit modern ideas ofstyle. It can’t fit the colonial,contemporary or Irish bar trends.

“It’s stuck in a time warp.”So what better to do with a pub

that needed refurbishing — on alimited spend — than allow it tostay relevant to its own era.

“But bring it into the modernday with facilities, equipment andservice.”

Enter 1950’s turquoise, creamand blush of peach, china andtrays, wall mounted plates, aninviting dining room or the choiceof eating in one of the bars (therestaurant renamed the ThirstyTui), plans for a garden bar.

The pub closed for sevenweeks while the reno took place.As well as sprucing up all publicareas, the kitchen has beenrefitted: “There was only a deepfryer and a domestic stove.”

Fare that could entice not justlocals but people from far awayincludes Kaipara flounder andoysters, pulled pork, beef cheeks,sausages made to the pub’s ownrecipe, or pizza, burgers, barsnacks, coffee to go, real fruiticecream . . .

There will be live music, withjazz , country and karaokeevenings, other entertainmentand club nights.

The Paparoa pub is owned by afamily trust, and director PamGoode, daughter of the late Daveand Joan Goode, is theestablishment’s secondgeneration hotelier. She grew upthere, now lives in Auckland, andis totally involved in the upgrade.

Cholmondeley-Smith, who MsGoode put in as manager afterbringing him in to “help rethink”the pub, grew up in Mangawhaibefore a career in hospitalitymanagement and consultancy inNew Zealand and overseas.

So far even the bar regulars,who at first grumbled that theirpub was about to be “changed”,are happy.

“They came in for the poolnight after the refurbishment, andloved it.”

It’ll be a bit of a taste test for awhile, Cholmondeley-Smithadmits: “Until we find the level.We do have to cater to locals aswell as passers-by and visitors.”

Paparoa is, he points out, “oneand a half hours from the top ofbridge”. No guesses about whatbridge that is.

“It’s really in its infancy,Paparoa, and the area in generalwill grow.

“This is no stupidexpectation.”

The day we’re there the sun isshining on Paparoa, and thepretty spring light pours throughthe pub’s windows. Little posiesand daffodils add splashes ofcolour.

The 1950s, whose time has notyet come, sits waiting to bediscovered.

It’s kind of cute, it’s old-townKiwiana before its time. Who knewyou could blend high tearoomelegance with booze-basedcountry pub?