Clyde: One dam fine town

Herald photographer PETER MEECHAM returns to his home town of Clyde and finds it is a place for all seasons.

Places you grow up in are always different on reflection. I saw nothing remarkable about Clyde, in Central Otago, while I was growing up there, but after moving away and having other places to compare, I now realise how unique it is.

The way the light falls and the distinct change of seasons that accompany it, combined with the grand sense of space created by the rugged landscape and lack of population, set it apart from anywhere I have lived or visited.

The burning intensity of a midsummer afternoon brings back memories of working during the school holidays, on Harry O'Reilly's orchard in the Cromwell Gorge before Lake Dunstan covered the giant Roxburgh Red apricot trees. I can still smell the ripe fruit that the fierce heat brought on, and can still feel the respite the leaves offered from the sun. These days the lake's cool waters offer solace from the dry Central Otago heat and the orchard workers have been replaced by holidaymakers taking advantage of long, hot summer days by the lakeside.

As the days shorten and the summer gives way to autumn, the pale sun can't break through the morning fog. Every colour and expression is muted during the Anzac service, and the Last Post carries throughout Clyde in the still morning air.

When the sun wins the battle in the afternoon the district is transformed into a blaze of reds, oranges and yellows, all reflected in the churning waters of the Clutha River as it runs past Clyde.

Winter envelopes the valley in all-day fog, creating hoar frost. If you don't venture out to the hilltops of the Cairnmuirs you may not see the sun for up to a month. If you time it just right you can be about for the magical hour or so when the fog clears, making it sparkle against the blue sky before melting away for another year.

For the locals, it's a hassle, with youngsters playing rugby on frozen grounds and adults struggling with burst pipes, but for visitors the area is a winter wonderland of silver and grey hues.

Spring's longer sunny spells, combined with wetter weather, make for one of the only times the hills have a touch of green. It's a wonderful time to take the motorcycle or mountain bike into the hills surrounding the district, riding through the rocky landscape peppered with wildflowers and sweet-smelling thyme.

When I was at primary school, Clyde was bypassed by a highway that was part of the new Cromwell Gorge route. Many people believed the bypass would cripple the town. It didn't. I think it has added to Clyde's appeal. Now the hamlet has become a destination rather than a place to pass through, the lack of traffic adding to the intimate feel of the town.

Clyde has two quality restaurants, the nationally recognised Olivers Restaurant and the Blues Bank, in the old BNZ building. A cafe and wine bar in the old post office and the local pub are both great examples of the stonework once common throughout the region.

To me, the biggest change is Clyde's interest in retaining its sense of history. One or two residents were always interested, but now it seems the whole town is backing initiatives promoting the town.

In the past 150 years the historical settlement has gone from being a mining centre to a local base for orchardists to a dam town and now a tourist destination.