For many years, for many reasons, I spent much time traveling the South Island of New Zealand staying in country pubs. They weren’t comfortable but they were homely. If you arrived late after the cook had gone home you were invariably told to go into the kitchen and make yourself a meal.

        At one stage I was the Department of Agriculture’s Acting Show Superintendent, meaning I visited all the South Island A & P Shows(Agriculture & Pastoral).

        In those days they were not allowed to serve alcoholic drinks after 6pm. But many hotels did –  illegally.

        Often they were very noisy and often exciting places, especially during a police raid.

        One night in Dunedin I was sound asleep when suddenly I was woken by exciting voices.  To my amazement, a crowd of animated patrons charged into my room threw open the window, and disappeared into the night down the fire escape. They didn’t even shut my window!

        And talking of fire escapes, there was a pub I use to stay at in Tuatapere in Southland, (when I was carrying out inspections of ‘mother’ seed potatoes) that had a fire escape of a knotted rope at the foot of the bed. Just as well I had served in the navy and learned rope drills.

        The biggest pub mistake I made was in Alexandra. Willis Burns and I were carrying out a survey of the Otago region on ways to increase agriculture in the district.

        We were staying at the Bendigo Hotel. On one very cold Sunday morning, we were sitting in the lounge, in front of a miserable fire, writing home. It was one of those heavy black frosts and the fog was hanging low. There was much hilarity coming from the bar next door – following church or instead of – I am not sure which.

        I said to Willis. “What say we have a drink before lunch?’ He readily agreed.

        I pushed the bell on the bar door to gain admittance. Unfortunately, I pushed it only once – giving the police raid signal. I didn’t know to gain admission I needed to have pushed it three times.  

        By the time the publican opened the door, his clients were disappearing over the back fence.

        I was not popular in Alexander that weekend!

Geoffrey Moss(mossassociates.co.nz)