A meal without wine is like a day without sunshine

Okay, let me firstly say that I am in no way proud of what I am about to recount. However, I do feel the tale worthy of sharing, if only out of relief and surprise.

Someone very kindly offered us use of their holiday home last weekend on the Coromandel (unspoilt playground of the wealthy - a rural/farming peninsula running from south Auckland, parallel to the city, heading back north) and, with an opportunity like that, it seemed only right that we should make the most of it and set off on Friday.

Despite the unspoilt beauty of forests, untouched beaches and winding mountain roads that would give the Alps a run for their money we still had a few issues with Chipshaker Jr and his determination to be sullen and ruin the day for everyone, despite everything we did to make it better (I suspect this is probably lingering homesickness, even after 6 months, and he seems hell-bent on punishing us for dragging him to this wonderful place). Consequently, Friday was a challenging day to say the least and the conclusions we reached at the end of a really difficult day trying to do nice things for Junior's benefit were:

a) if we ever got divorced the custody battle would be more about who got lumbered with the kids rather than who wanted them
b) nothing we could do would make him happy
c) we'd run out of ideas

and most importantly

d) we both needed a beer

Now the day hadn't been all bad - we'd driven a fair distance to a particular beach, known for its thermal springs. And the gloom lifted briefly as the kids, turning slightly blue, bathed in steaming hot water as the freezing Pacific rollers crashed up onto the beach, chilling everything until the hot water bubbled up again. Nevertheless, once the fun was over Junior once again returned to his perpetual state of sullenness.

We were some way from our base, so we decided to stop off for a beer on the way back. After a nice "cold one" things were looking up so we decided cut our losses, relax in front of the log fire and order a meal, with which I had two glasses of a very fair local red wine, as you do.

By now darkness had fallen so I had a "fun" time driving through winding forest roads in the pitch dark, trying hard not to run over kiwis and possums - the former a protected species and the latter a pest. Whilst it is considered good form to run over any possum you spot, they do rather make a mess of the front of the car. We didn't see either but we did nearly run over some farmer's dog.....twice!! Not content with wandering into the road the first time and near choking on the blue tyre smoke, the daft bugger did the same thing again just as I was about to set off!

Nevertheless, we eventually got to the village before the one we were staying in. Clearly a farming community, it became immediately apparent from the sight of two or three bars bursting at the seams that all the farmers knock off at 5pm on a Friday to sink a few cold ones. As we were passing out of town, it also became apparent that the local copper parks his car in the middle of the road at 7.30 and stops every driver in the hope of catching miscreants driving home full to the gunnels.

At 7.45pm, he caught one such miscreant!

"Evening" said I
"Evening sir, could you state your name and address please" said he, as he pressed a breath testing machine to my mouth
"Thank you sir....oh....it's a fail, have you been drinking?"
"Yes, I had a couple of glasses of wine with a meal"
"Where was this?"

At which point, anyone who isn't a native who tries to pronounce some of the local names is heading for disaster, drink or not!

"Er...er...just up the road in Whitty...er...wanger"
"Ah, right, I think you mean Whitianga" (pronounced fittyanga) "When was that then?" says he, looking at Mrs C and the kids
"Well it was about an hour ago, eh love?" said I looking to Mrs C for corroboration, and setting the kids with a steely death stare, daring them to speak
"Yes, about an hour ago"

Having watched a few episodes of "Motorway Patrol" I was well aware of the dim view the NZ police take of drinking and driving and, at the point I saw the police car in the road I knew I was heading for a night in the cells at least, and probably a hefty fine and a ban - and all before I've even got my NZ driving licence!

As I said at the outset, I don't condone drinking and driving, and I'm sure abstinence is the only sensible policy when driving, but I'm sure most of us have had the odd beer, or a glass of wine or two with a meal before heading off home. Knowing I had to drive, I'd deliberately moderated the intake, had a coffee and killed a bit of time before we set off home.

Nevertheless, I suppose I knew from the outset that I was on thin ice. So, as you might imagine, the next event took my breath away somewhat

"Okay sir, no problem, thank you and have a nice evening"

I drove the rest of the way more stunned than I would have been had I downed a bottle of scotch!. No cells, no fine, no ban, no marigolds. Not even a patronising British bobby-style spiel about how irresponsible it was to drink and drive, particularly with kids in the car, and how I'd better watch out next time!

Unbelievable!!

Now this was the first time I'd ever been stopped in all my years of driving but I've since learned that it is fairly commonplace over here. I've also learned from several people I have spoken to since that I was very...very...lucky!