The Repair Shop

Have you seen a British telly program called ‘The Repair Shop’? You know the one - people bring in cherished items that have fallen into disrepair and get them repaired by an on-site team of expert restorers. On the face of it, it’s a pleasant concept about every day people getting things they love fixed. But it has a nasty streak. It’s not quite as nice as it would first seem. I’m not suggesting it’s deliberate, but one could come away with the impression that the programme producers prefer it when people cry. Overcome with emotion from seeing their item brought back to life. Well you would I suppose. 

Call me cynical, but I do have an issue with the premise. If the items were so cherished, as the emotions that play out would suggest, why did the owners let them get into such a state in the first place? And, assuming it was accidental damage, shouldn’t they have had the item repaired much sooner. Rather then wait to be asked onto the telly? But I’m perhaps one to talk…..

In September 2015 I decided to enjoy the early spring sunshine and take a ride along the coast on my mountain bike to Half Moon Bay. It was a beautiful day for a gentle ride, the paths and boardwalks a little tame for a full suspension mountain bike, but it didn’t really matter. Being out was what mattered and besides, at my destination there were cafés and with that cake and coffee! Oh and of course, a ferry back to the city.

Taking it all at a pace that being on a mountain bike on flat terrain requires, it took a few hours to travel the 30km or so to my destination. Even so, I was a bit early so had plenty of time to rest up and refuel before catching the next ferry back to the city.

And it was on the ferry where, unbeknownst to me, something untoward was happening. But I was happy. I had cake, coffee and a great view of the Auckland coast, my bike perched at the back of the boat.

40 minutes later, the ferry docked and I had a short ride up the hill back to Parnell. I got back to the house, put my bike in the garage and went to get a shower. What a great morning out!

A few weeks later, I went to get my bike out of the garage only to find the wheels wouldn’t turn - not without a great deal of effort anyway. My brakes had seized up and other parts that were supposed to move we’re decidedly static. What the? I’d only been on it a few weeks earlier and hadn’t been near any mud or water. Except for the ferry of course…..oh! I’d forgotten about the sea spray! I remember my bike being covered in it and I’d just plonked it back in the garage without washing it down! How could I have been so careless?

It’s okay though, I thought, I’d get it sorted next weekend….

That was nearly seven years ago. I hadn’t touched it and with each passing year it looked more and more disheveled and unloved. It got to the point where I needed to do something about. I felt increasingly guilty about letting get into such a state and concerned it would soon be a rusty unrecoverable heap. There was nothing for it - I took it to the experts at the local bike shop. No problem, they said, we’ll look at it and get back to you with a quote.

The call the next day was enlightening. Not only were they sure that it would be nearly $3,000 to get it sorted, they weren’t particularly keen on doing the work. ‘It’s too old and not really worth it. Besides, styles have changed and we’ll struggle to get the parts we need’ was the general gist. But they could sell me a new one for $6,000. Or course they could. The cheek of it. Old fashioned? How dare they? I suppose in the fashion fickle world of mountain biking, a twelve year old bike may as well have been a Penny Farthing. 

So if their heart wasn’t in it, mine would have to be. I didn’t want a new bike, I wanted to repair mine - I’d let it get into this state so it was me who needed to fix it. I mean, how hard could it be?

So I spent the next few weeks….okay maybe a month….perhaps two….holed up in the garage dismantling, inspecting, cleaning and rebuilding. In all honesty is was a cathartic experience. There was a bit of trial and error - pauses whilst waiting for parts to arrive from overseas and plenty of education by YouTube. Mostly to figure out what I’d done wrong. But bit by bit, and part by part, life was slowly brought back into the bike. 

It wasn’t a cheap exercise, but considerably less than the price I was quoted. As long as you don’t factor in the cost of my time!

Although I might still scoff at some of the people on The Repair Shop, it’s maybe more out of habit than genuine incredulity. And I’ll admit that last Sunday, when I got back on the saddle for the first time in nearly seven years, it was a little bit emotional. Crying? Of course not.  I’m sure it was just the wind in my eyes that was making them water….

A Year of Living Dangerously

Really? Well no not actually but as far as headlines go,  ‘A Year of Living Quietly’ isn’t exactly an attention grabber is it. And not even actually true. How about ‘Nearly six months of living relatively quietly’? Yes that’s much better.

It was never my intention, when I wrote my last blog in December last year. that there was going to be such a gap. In all fairness, I didn’t even think my last blog was going to be my last blog of 2021. It’s just the way it happened. You can’t plan these things. Or at least I don’t think you can. And if it was my plan to have a long break then I think I executed it rather well.

So what’s been happening? Even from this remote corner of the planet I can tell that 2022 isn’t panning out the way we would have liked. Well most of us anyway. Maybe there are some sociopaths that wanted exactly this….oh yeah.

When I last wrote, Dear Reader, New Zealand had just lifted most of the Covid restrictions, with just mask wearing in certain places and vaccine passports being required to get into bars and restaurants. Of course the borders were still closed to most, to the annoyance of some, but the majority of the country could live with that.

There was a very minor section of the New Zealand population that objected - something like a thousand people or so - and naturally the media amplified their concerns and claimed that the Covid restrictions were dividing the country. I suppose technically they were but it was more like 0.1% / 99.9%. 

Spurred on by QAnon and fake-religion leaders, there were a few demonstrations in our local park but all they seemed to do was make a bit of noise, drop litter, march down the high street and then leave. I’ve got to say, though, that if I was at a protest and happened to glance across and see neo-nazis supporting the same cause, I’d have to question my life choices.

Obviously the government wasn’t going to drop any of the restrictions - they were there to protect the heath of the population after all - so a mass protest was organised.

Well, I say organised but I would question the organisation skills of the group. Two convoys, one form the North Island and the other from the South Island, set off towards the capital Wellington where the mass protest was to be held. Unfortunately for the protesters, nobody seemed to have agreed the route and the North Island convoy took a wrong turn and got lost, whilst the South Island convoy overlooked the fact that they needed to be vaccinated and wear a face covering to use the ferry. You would’ve thought that they would have known this as this was exactly the sort of thing that they were protesting about. They were turned away and set off in search of alternative means to cross the Cook Straight.

Eventually they did turn up in Wellington, or at least some of them did, and occupied the grounds of the parliament building, affectionately known as The Beehive. They camped out there for several weeks and turned the once green and peaceful place into a ….. well let’s just say that with limited toilet facilities that wasn’t just mud that was on the ground! Apparently the stench was something out of the middle ages. They demanded to speak to the Prime Minister, but as they had placards calling for her hanging there’s no surprise a parley didn’t happen. 

As the weeks dragged on, and with Wellingtonians wary of going anywhere near the place for fear of being harassed, the Police finally had enough so they set in motion an operation to clean up the place. It did turn a bit nasty with some protesters ripping up paving stones and throwing them at the Police, and others setting fire to trees and a kids playground. Nice people.

Eventually the protest was cleared and a huge clean up followed. To look at the parliament grounds now you wouldn’t know they’re ever been there.  

With Omicron is full flow, there was little point in keeping most of the restrictions in place so these were relaxed. Vaccine passports or no longer compulsory and mask wearing is limited to shops and public transport. The protesters are still protesting but in smaller numbers and with somewhat less conviction than they were previously. Naturally they have found something else to complain about - water reform - but I suspect the majority don’t really understand what it is that they don’t like about it. That’s a topic for a whole new blog.

With international travel back on the menu, New Zealand is once again open for business. The government’s popularity rating has taken a hit and now the opposition is trying to frame the whole Covid response as being ‘over the top’ and ‘it wouldn’t have been that bad anyway’. 

Hhmm. A recent study suggested that the quick and decisive by the government to the pandemic saved around 80,000 lives and by taking prompt action, the economy is actually in a better place than most others. No doubt it’s been tough for a lot of people, but I’m sure it would’ve been a lot worse had it not been taken so seriously in the first place.

That’s not to say that the pandemic is over. It isn’t. Covid is circulating widely in the community and I’ve gone from not knowing anyone who’s had it, to most people having had it - myself included. But with 95% of the population vaccinated, thankfully the effects are reduced. Nevertheless Covid is going to be with us for a while yet.

So there you have it. With six months of history condensed into a single blog you’re up to date. I promise to try and not take so long to the next one. At least with the borders now being open I might have something more interesting to write about!