Feb. 08, 2024, Otira - Bealey Hotel - Otira
The plan for today is to hitchhike to Bealey Hotel, approximately 25 km from here, retrieve our resupply boxes sent from Wellington, and walk back to Otira via Arthur's Pass. The following day, we intend to hitchhike to Bealey Hotel again and continue walking from there into the next section.
The official trail to Bealey Hotel runs parallel through the mountains, known to be very challenging, plus there's a race scheduled there the day after tomorrow. Feeling exhausted and with significant back pain, I'm relieved at the prospect of bypassing that section.
Around 10 am, a couple from Greymouth, headed to spend a day in Christchurch, gives us a ride. However, upon arriving at the hotel, we find everything closed with a sign indicating new opening hours from 3 pm to 7:30 pm. Unable to reach them by phone, X starts walking back towards Otira.
Spotting a woman hanging laundry near a nearby building, I approach her, discovering she's one of the staff members. She arranges for a colleague to provide access to our resupply boxes, which I collect 20 minutes later. Due to persistent back pain and fatigue, I decide against walking the 25 km along the road instead I hitch a ride to Arthur's Pass first to forward the parcel elsewhere.
My ride is a young man recently returned from overseas who wishes to pay forward the kindness he received hitchhiking. At Arthur's Pass I find that there is no postal service, only a mail pickup station. I negotiate with the cafe manager to print the online paid postage for me so that I can send the parcel elsewhere. After sorting that out, I secure my final hitch back to Otira Hotel, conversing with the driver, who is part of the coast-to-coast race starting the next day, about the race details.
I return to Otira Hotel around 12:30 and eagerly anticipate sinking into the massage chair, as the pain is becoming unbearable.
Later, during dinner at the hotel, I inquire about the "player piano."
I thought it was the type of piano one often sees in old movies, where it appears to play by itself with the keys moving on their own. However, this one is a bit different.
The hotel has a large collection of paper rolls with holes, each containing a different song. When I asked to see the piano in action, they inserted one of these rolls, and one of the two staff members always present showed me how to operate it. Indeed, it doesn't play by itself. I sat down in front of the piano and had to press the pedals to pump air through the instrument.
Here's how it works: "Player pianos were powered by foot treadles, similar to old sewing machines, which pumped air through the machine. The music was 'programmed' onto a paper roll with up to 88 holes — one for each key. When air passed through a hole, it activated a small pneumatic device to strike a specific key."
I had fun pumping the air, although it was hard work. The speed of the song depended on how quickly I pushed the pedals. I grew too tired to finish the classical piece, but I thoroughly enjoyed the experience.
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