I still gape when I see Christmas trees in midsummer.
We toy with the idea of a ride on the cable car, but by the time we've had our lunch on a bench near the lake, then a coffee, and listened to live music in the cafe, time is getting short, and we head back to Lake Hawea.
We take the low road via Cromwell this time.
On the way back we stop briefly to look at Roaring Meg, a stream named after either a fiery barmaid, or another woman who made a lot of noise when she was carried across the stream after a dance. In any event all the fuss,and noise of the stream has proved very useful in generating hydro-electricity in the Kawarau valley.
By the time we reached Cromwell, it appeared to have closed for the night, apart from a bar or two. It seems to be a centre of fruit growing.