TOO MUCH RAIN ON COAST.

Hokitika Guardian, 28 January 1926, Page 4

TOO MUCH RAIN ON COAST.

AMERICAN TOURIST’S OPINIONS.

'• “A DARLING COUNTRY.” CHRISTCHURCH, Jan. 27. “Gorgeous, delighlful, wonderful—l don’t know what you would call it, but to us it’s a wonder all the way. You’ve a magnificent country, the scenery is excellent, but I’ll toll the world that you’re getting more than your share of rain here, and we don’t like it.” Seated in the lounge of a city hotel, Mrs T. D. Strelitz. one or tho party of American tourists who arrived in Christchurch from the West Coast last evening, thus summed up her opinion of New Zealand. “Why, that coast of yours is the wettest place in the whole world,” she said smilingly. “You know they told us over there that it rained a hundred and twenty-four inches a week—a month or something. It might have been a year, hut T think they made a mistake. It was one hundred and twentv-four feet tliov meant. NO COEDS TN CHICAGO. “We’ve been in New Zealand eight days, and it’s been raining for six of them. We’ve all got colds and rheumatism and’cramp, and all the other

things that come with the ram, and wo’re beginning to wonder whether we will ever fret rid of them. It’s the first eold I’ve had in my life. too. T come from Chicago; over there we don't get colds. “Look! Don't you mind what she tells you about the rain—your country is a darling, that’s what it is. I’ve never seen anything like it. and I VO travelled the world.” put in another lady. “Yes, it’s a peach— a real Californian peach.” added a third, enthusiastically. “But it could do with a little Californian sunshine,” interjected one of the men. “You sure get the rain here.” THK GOOD THINGS. AVhon told that he wouldn’t find it so wet now that he had left the Coast, the young fellow appeared a little sceptical. “T guess we were beginning to expect, it all the way now,” he said. “Rut the sunshine will he welcome—if it comes.” He cast a gloomy face out of the window. “You’re not expecting the sun to he shining at night, are you?” queried a lady who was delighted with New Zealand with all its rain. “No, but I’m nil optimist,” lie said. “No that I’ve said so many nasty things about the weather that we’ve had. I’ll tell you of all the nice things,” and there are a whole lot of them, said Mrs Strolitz. “New Zealanders are wonderful people. I’ve hoard a lot about them

long before wo came out. No, I u asn t expecting to find savages. We knew that the Now Zealanders were reallv nice, cultured, hospitable people, but we bad no idea that they were nearly so nice as we have found them. SMILES ALL THE WAY. “Evervoue is so kind, and they welcome you. They’re always smiling. 'Hie people in the hotels and on the trains— they're really delightful. The train crews everywhere we’ve been have treated us wonderfully, and we appreciate it.” “Gee. don’t we!” put in a happy voting fellow. “It’s a smile all the way out here, and wo like to see people smile.” . . ~ “Can’t smile too much.” said another who was sitting in a corner blowing smoke rings. “And I can tell you we U all staid smiling when the sum begins to -smile,'

said Mrs Strelitz. “We’ve not seen his fare since we arrived here, and when we see him next I’m telling you ive U offer him the glad hand, for he 1 he like a friend who has been away for a very long time and has just come hack.”