This is Owhango, a small town near the Central Plateau of New Zealand’s North Island. This is the main road, State Highway 4.

Owhango has been a bit sad in the last month since the pub closed. A typical story these days: out of town owner, purchased it with a mega-mortgage and charged mega-rent to cover the mega-mortgage; the business couldn’t sustain the mega-rent and so now there’s half a dozen or so less jobs in Owhango, no pub and no fish’n’chips…the next closest pub is National Park one way or Taumarunui the other but there’s no taxis or Dial-a-driver…welcome to the country…

This is State Highway 4, looking the other way towards Taumarunui. It’s a busy day – market day…

We popped down for a look, even though we aren’t really locals yet: we’ve only been here for five years. I thought I might get some ‘what’s around the area’ pics for the Chalet website I’m building as my experiment in marketing this summer to supplement its  site on Bookabach…and you never know what might turn up at the market…

Normally you can drive through Owhango and see no one but on the first Sunday of each month, it’s market day…

…and the population explodes…

…I can never resist a sausage sizzle but managed to stay away from the fresh cheese and wild venison salami tasting…I really liked the slat hammock in the background and think I will invest in one next month (the same stall also had children’s rope ladders but Carmen wouldn’t let me get a couple for the twins – I guess they’ll have to stick with ripping up their sheets to getaway for now)

…it could be typical small town anywhere…

After a good hour or so browsing, we had a coffee in the sun at Out of the Fog – it is a damn shame that it is only open on weekends now – again, welcome to life in the country…

It struck me as we sat in the sun and chattered with the locals how much small towns are alike anywhere and how intrusive WE would consider an occupying force that did not speak our language, did not understand our culture and thundered through town at speed in its armoured vehicles…even if the local police officer had stopped for a sausage, some conversations would have slowed, some people might have slipped back into the shadows…how incongruous and invasive we would consider it to have soldiers in their reflective shades, bulky body armour and guns at OUR market…would we talk with them or look away til they left. Would WE be more receptive to someone who lived amongst us, understood who WE are and how WE think, who know what WE value and hold dear…? You’re a smart guy, MAJ Jim Gant…