The day before we left Wellington we paid way too much to stay in the motorhome park in the city and we did a little touring. We took the cable car up the hill to the botanical garden.
We did not explore much more of Wellington. It might be lovely, and perhaps we will visit again with more curiosity. It’s compared in the tour book to San Francisco, which might explain something: we were ready to head out of urbania into the wild south.
Our van’s name came to me in a dream one night. Apparently she is an Irish van, or so my subconscious says, and we’re going with it. It’s official: our big girl’s name is Patty. So on Monday 17 of December, Alex, Mary and Patty the 2000 Toyota HiAce drove on up to the second deck of a Bluebridge Ferry for a journey to another island. I had to rev ‘er up in first gear to make it up the ramp and there she sat, dutifully waiting for us for the next few hour journey across the Cooks Straight.
We sat inside and played cards, ate food and...tried to look cool for the ipad.
We went to the upper decks when we could see land again. I was expecting blustering wind and frigid air, but it was surprisingly warm and pleasant out there.
It was no wonder the cargo deck had a scent of fertilizer in the air, we had some woolen shipmates making the journey to a new home.
When we drove off the boat in Picton, we drove out an incredibly winding road to a Department of Conservation camping spot called Aussie Bay. It was a small place loaded with campers just like us. This was a thrill to the residents, however...
We met this weka wandering around hoping for a free meal. It’s a flightless brown bird that looks and moves something like a cross between a duck and a chicken. Wekas are uncommon native birds, but when you are near one, there’s no missing it; it will make itself known for sure. They are omnivorous oportunivores eating anything that will come there way.
Our weka friend was not the only resident bird looking cute and milling about wanting people food..
[I want to make a self-conscious note here that I'm aware of how much anthropomorphizing I do of the animals. Forgive me hard-core environmentalists. I'm unabashed in my orientation to cuteness.]
This was the beautiful mama duck. I believe she's a grey duck due to her zebra-striped face. However, I did not see any color on her wings, so she may be a mix between mallard and grey; I can’t be sure. Our field guide says pure grey ducks are rare and more often mixed with mallard genes.
She seemed to be a single mom. She had a handful of fuzzy ducklings following her everywhere and exploring the campground, but there was no male in sight.
When we pulled into camp the babies were under the chair of a man getting a haircut at their site. Later they came by to take a sniff of Alex’s shoes. We have a cute video of this, but sadly not enough data to upload it.
From Aussie Bay we began to work our way West to Nelson where we stayed for one night. We took a very twisty Queen Charlotte Drive there and stopped somewhere before Havelock for a small hike at a scenic overlook...
Mom, I thought of you when I saw this one...
It reminds me of you and Friendsville. I suspect the kids at these four addresses are happy for the shelter from the rain when they wait for the bus.
When we drove through a tiny town of Wakefield we found these on sale. Organic kiwi fruit! They were for sure the best I’ve ever tasted. We learned from a tour guide at Zelandia that kiwi were originally called Chinese peaches but were given the kiwi name as a marketing decision sometime a few decades ago.
We’ve also tried golden kiwi fruit, too. They’re sweeter with less zing. We eat fruit like this every day. Strawberries are in season and they’re killer. I can’t wait for mango.
On our third day on the south island we drove to the center of the island to Lake Rotoroa. It was a gorgeous mountain lake with crystal clear water. We thought we had struck gold. In some respects we had. The setting was lush and scenic.
Our tui neighbors sang welcomes to us. And it was quiet and peaceful with few people. We soon learned why. Lake Rotoroa gave us our first, strong introduction to sandflies. These little guys are like gnats with teeth. They bite like crazy.
Foolishly, we came unprepared. We thought we had our mosquito spray, but we turned the van upside down looking for it to no avail. We parked the van and almost immediately walked back out of the park and up the road to a backpacker hostel a small kilometer away in search of a solution. There we met a british man who’s been living in NZ for the last 40 years. Evidently we’d woken him up from his afternoon nap. He came out bleary-eyed to greet us. He was laid back and friendly, completely unsurprised we were hunting for sand fly protection. “One or two?” he asked me as he reached into a basket on the floor and pulled up a nip of Smirnoff. I thought maybe he was starting in to the booze now that he was awake, but it turns out he cans his own secret recipe to ward off biters in one-shot bottles. “You’re gonna be here two nights, huh? Well then, you better take two.”
In the morning we did a trail run in the forrest near the lake. After that we jumped in. The water was so cold it left us involuntarily gasping for our breath. It was so clear that we could see all the plants in the bottom as well as the fish. Too beautiful. The perspective of the mountains from inside the water was more holy than church.
During our second night we both woke up in the dark scratching. Our feet were on fire. The magic serum worked, but only for so long. With their procreation reaching levels of black fog surrounding and infiltrating our van, the sandflies had officially done us in.
We woke up in the morning ready for surrender. Despite the heat, the inside of our van was shut up tight and littered with tiny-winged bodies. We felt imprisoned in their graveyard. We rushed to leave, flinging tea towels to scare them off (poorly) while we prepared the van for departure. With socks pulled up over my jeans, and a towel over my head and neck, we fled as quickly as we could. It wasn’t until we were halfway across the island again that we had rid the van of the last living blood-sucker.
Poor Alex bore the brunt of the aftermath, suffering for days afterward, covered with many layers of calamine lotion, before we discovered it was my antihistamine I’d been taking for hay fever that was my secret to recovery. We haven’t seen our last sandfly, we are pretty sure, but we are damn sure will be better equipped next time around.
The road we took back across from Lake Rotoroa to Seddon where we spent the following night was a thick blue line across the map. Secondary State Highway 63, the largest and maybe the only road to go from Nelson Lakes National Park eastward. It was one lane in each direction, except for the bridges where drivers take turns on a single-lane. I suspect what makes this a major thoroughfare opposed to any other route is the pavement and painted lines. We are certainly in the country down here.
After Seddon we headed south and stayed in some free parking outside of Kaitoura, a touristy beach town. We slept next to a field of a hundred shy neighbors that talk a lot but just seem to say variations of “baaaa.”
On Christmas eve eve we headed farther south and met up with Francois and Aude! Together we all made our way down to an NZMCA park in Parnassus.
We have matching vans. Brother and sister on the road.
The park did not nock our socks off with scenery, but it was a good place to park and rest for a few nights to catch up and celebrate Christmas. We had happy hour one of the nights with some other campers staying in the park. We met John Scott, a retired British fellow who has been on the road on his own for 2 years so far. He’s toured the south island one and a half times and isn’t ready to quit. He says he’s got no computer, no TV, no bills to pay, and no wife. He eats three good meals a day, he says, and he's happy guy. He gave us some good recommendations on where to find showers on the road and places to stay. Score!
This was 1000 pieces of psychedelic awesome that took us a day to complete. We'd all forgotten how much fun a puzzle can be.
Following Parnassus we hit the road toward Christchurch for a bunch of errands but no real sightseeing. After a couple days on the move we have set up camp in Taieri Mouth, right on the coast. I sit now listening to the waves as I write this. We will share photos and more about this place and our first WWOOFing to come next time.
(Our three mascots, resting after a hard season's work. They're relieved to be able to holiday in NZ for real now! (These guys know how to party.))
We hope everyone had a great Christmas. Big hugs from far away.
No comments:
Post a Comment