Building an instant town

Since mid-May the weather had been superb. In the early mornings there were occasional fogs – the white sunshine of winter Waikato – but mostly there was light frost, crisp air, faded-jeans blue skies and clear days to get on with the job.

And at the National Fieldays’ site at Mystery Creek, just south of Hamilton, scores, perhaps hundreds of workers were doing just that. By that second week of May – a month out from the opening of the 46^th consecutive National Fieldays – the place was a hive of activity.

Heavy machinery was putting big poles and fences and seating in place; the tent-hire people were already busy heaving and pulling and shoving tent-frames and plastic sheeting into place; piles of wood chips were being dumped strategically, to be spread out later; the site roadways were being levelled and smoothed and pot-holes filled in; and everyone was busy. Already some of the major, long-time signs were back in place – Stihl, Gallagher, RD1, Fonterra and a dozen others, all of them traditional and integral to the New Zealand rural way of life.

Even at that stage, when there was still a vast amount of work to be done, the site looked impressive. Within less than a month it was to become the equivalent of a major town, daily catering to all the normal needs of 30,000 men, women and children.

This year there are an additional 28 new outdoor agri-business sites, utilising an area usually set aside for voluntary staff car-parking. As well, the site has a substantial new headquarters, set to the north of the main gates and providing an unimpeded view out over the entire complex. In place of the old headquarters building at the centre of the display sites, there is now an expanded ‘village green’ open area, providing a wider expanse for visitors to meet, sit and relax.

Major delegations from both Argentina and Japan are expected, with scores of other international visitors from around the world.

By last Monday, the pace had picked up dramatically as workers and site-holders rushed to get displays completed. A tsunami of tenting had washed over the place, and immense machinery – tractors, seed drills, hay-balers, specialised trucks, giant disks, harvesters – all sporting brand new orange or red or blue or yellow paintwork, were being carefully manoeuvred into position on platforms of new wood-chips. More and yet more colourful, eye-catching signs were being strategically placed. Clothing, footwear, tools and all the other paraphernalia used by the wider rural community was being trucked on-site by the hundreds of tonnes, and numerous food stalls were being set up in readiness for an onslaught by thousands of hungry or thirsty visitors.

And the skies, which had previously been clear and sunny, were now leaking on the 46^th National Fieldays parade.

“Well,” shrugged a veteran of several dozen Fieldays over the past three decades, “that’s standard Fieldays’ weather. Most people won’t care. It’s gonna be good anyway.”