But as they are walking in the midst of sheep or cattle, it's a fair bet that literally speaking, they're not coming from much further than a few paddocks away. A timeless song has sparked this trip, and the journey itself has its own sense of timelessness. If it weren't for the smooth tarsealed road and the occasional satellite dish, the scenery gives few clues to what year we're in. The houses that punctuate the sparse, unreconstructed landscape are mostly no-nonsense and elderly. Few have much by way of gardens.
White paint is standard and much of it is faded or flaking.
The rugged hills that run all the way to the coast could have been put there by Colin McCahon. Even on a sun-filled winter's day, their brooding darkness is inescapable. This clearly is not gentleman farmer country. A glimpse in any direction tells you that generations of families have put a lot of sweat, and probably more than a few heartbreaks, into the land. You'd expect the frontman for New Zealand's most successful country act to be at home in this environment and Barry Saunders most certainly is.