Ryan Amor

When did we become such fair-weather weekenders? The forecast for Saturday was 30 mls of rain, but the last thing you wanted really was staying at home fretting about not being able to put the laundry on the line, or taking a look at your socials and seeing a couple more grim videos of the flood in Nepal, or another glacier collapsing.

Fuck the goddamned rain we thought- let’s drive to Davenport.

Auckland was wrapped in gauzy, white fog, the rain just a constant drizzle. Traffic was muted. The scenic (and best) way to Davenport is by ferry, but save that for a sunny day. We’ve done it a couple of times and you can close your eyes and pretend it’s Portofino or something.

We found parking space on the main street, which on any other day, there wouldn’t have been any. There were no crowds, but still enough punters to give the cafes some decent business. Lunch was at the Stone Oven Cafe housed in an old telephone exchange building. No needless reinvention there, just the classics done correctly. Then a walk across the road to the bakery for some sweet treats for later.

With food out of the way, it was now time to nourish the mind which wasn’t hard as it seems there was a book-shop or an op-shop with a substantial used-book bin, after every second store.

The Davenport library was nice and I had to remind myself that I still had books, physical and digital in my reading queue so I was just browsing really until I saw a slim volume of short stories, an Ockham New Zealand Book Awards finalist with a nice blurb from Jane Campion, so why not?

The lady at the Depot 3 Vic Road gallery was very nice. She encouraged us to touch and examine stuff which I think is what convinces you in the end, to purchase something. We didn’t, but it gave us a better appreciation for the work of local artisans, and the courage (yup) it takes to put something out there to not only sell, but to somehow communicate that it’s not just a shiny, pretty trinket.

And upstairs (it turned out to be an open day) were the spaces where resident artists did their stuff. We met two ladies who did ceramics and weaving and they were very friendly and eager to share what they did that I thought, now, this is the life, until one of them clarified that no- they didn’t really do this full time. The weaver lady’s main job was actually doing websites and it was such a sobering reality-check. But of course! A sombre woven tapestry of dove-grey stripes is pretty, but was it pretty enough to pay the lady’s Tom Ford glasses and Nama Mesh sneakers?

Sam wanted to stop at several other book-shops, but I was done. I needed something shallow and banal to quell all the intellectual and creative waves crashing inside my head.

Turns out, the suggestion for some gelato (fig compote, rum & raisin and Italian Christmas cake) did the trick.