When I was in my early twenties, my great grandmother and my great aunt went on a bus tour of New Zealand. When they came back, great grandma said she regretted that they never stopped in the town of Lumsden, the tour bus just drove through it. The bus driver did announce that Mrs Lumsden (great grandma) was in Lumsden. For some reason, this story always made me want very much to visit Lumsden.
I still wasn’t well, but the day of rest in Te Anu had knocked the worst of the cold on the head. Part of my improved outlook was knowing I was finally going to see Lumsden. I was prepared to be disappointed, but at the same time I was rather hopeful that Lumsden was something special. Whenever we mentioned the town, people had heard of it, and the café in particular. It was famous for its cheese rolls.
Lumsden embraced its name. There were Lumsden-named parks and buildings. It felt surreal, seeing my maiden name sprinkled everywhere, with such exuberance. There was no problem in finding Café Route 6 – it was across the road from the public toilets. even the toilets proudly proclaimed they were ‘Lumsden Toilets’ from a sign shaped like the front of a steam train (Steampunk!).
In the café was a whole red Chevy. This turned out to be the post office! We sent a parcel home from there. By now, I seriously was in love with the town. It was so much more magical than I could ever have hoped. There were Lumsden souvenirs on sale, and I bought my father a coffee mug and bought a t-shirt for myself.
We had lunch at the café, but we didn’t have one of the famous cheese rolls. I was feeling better, but the thought of a cheese roll made me squeamish. My husband went with sweet rolls and coffee for both of us. They were delicious.
We wanted to get on Dunedin before sunset, so we couldn’t spend more than a couple of hours in Lumsden. But I’d love to go back, and maybe spend days there.