Just me and my backpack...: A Fond Farewell to the North Island, and a Big Fat HELLOOOOO to the South!

On 7^th March 2011, I took the ferry from the north island to the south; a crossing which lasted for around 3 1/2 hours, and was probably one of the most beautiful I'll ever be on. I sat down next to an elderly couple from Tauranga (their names escape me now), and then another elderly couple from Christchurch, Anne and John, came to join us. I spoke mainly with Anne, as I was sitting next to her, and she explained her story of the Christchurch earthquake.

She’d been standing peeling apples at her workbench in her home, and once the earthquake started, she'd had to drop her knife and just cling to the workbench whilst she saw her heater come off the wall and smash, her TV smash and various other things be demolished. But she was extremely pleased that her crockery had all remained in-tact. When the shaking stopped, she called for John, and when she realised that he was ok, they went outside. The only thing that had noticeably happened was that their patio was now a few inches away from the house, and the garage door wouldn’t open because it was electrical and the power had gone down. She said that her neighbour’s roof had pretty much collapsed. They had been staying with friends in the north island to get away from the liquefaction, the lack of fresh water, the lack of electricity and the poor sewer system. I didn’t blame them in the slightest! And now they were heading down to Dunedin to stay with some more friends, with no idea of when they might return home. They were the first people that I'd met who had been affected by the quake, and I was very grateful that Anne had shared her story with me.

My travel companions... Anne & John are on the right

My first sighting of the South Island... EEEK!! :)

At this point of the crossing, the scenery travelling through the Marlborough Sounds (sounds being areas of deep water close to the shore, generally surrounded by mountains) was amazing, so as Anne had finished sharing her experiences with me, I went out on deck to take in the views. Spectacular J

I was due to meet up with some friends once I got to Picton (where I disembarked the ferry), and we decided to go and stay at a hostel where one of my friends was staying. After that, we found a DOC campsite nearby and spent a few nights there. Some other friends arrived, and in there end there were 7 of us camping, which was great fun. We (all except 2) decided to do the Queen Charlotte Walk, but to just do a day trip rather than a tramp (which is where you camp overnight and so have to carry a huge backpack). So we went to the i-site (information centre) and they advised us to do the 9hr hike – it was meant to be the most arduous part of the hike, but also the most beautiful. Sold.

So we packed up our stuff and drove to a campsite near the start of the hike. Graham and I drove a further half hour in our cars, dropped off Graham’s car so that we could drive back in it the next day (the track wasn’t on a loop), and we both whizzed back in Jerry. It was the first time Graham had been in Jerry since our roadtrips back in November; the ones where he’d actually named my car Jerry J I slept very well that night considering it had been so cold at night the past few nights – I’d been wearing jogging trousers, thick wooly socks, PJ top, jumper, wooly hat with a duvet over me, and I was still cold. But the incorporation of a sleeping bag into this mix worked wonders. I don’t know how I’ll ever survive doing this in the depths of winter down at the southern (equivalent of our northern!) end of NZ! I think it was just a cold front though – I seem to be managing fine again now without all of that stuff…

We took off on the Queen Charlotte track, and it truly was beautiful. And arduous. There was a LOT of uphill to do!! But it was so, so worth it. And I was really happy to be doing it with other people too – it really did add to my enjoyment of the day.

Towards the end of the day, Graham, Martin and I took a half hour detour up a big hill to a lookout point, Eatwells point (?), which was beautiful. It was at this point that I realised that my camera settings had been messed up, and that all of the photos that I’d taken that day were of a VERY small quality size, and were only good enough for sending in emails!!! NOOOOOOOO!! Gutted isn’t the word. So I changed my settings and took as many photos as I could ro compensate. Ok – Gutted probably is the word… L

Standing 18,800km away from London...

Tired at the end of the hike...

We went back to the campsite in Blenheim (Onamalutu Scenic Reserve) the next day, to commence a wine tour of the Marlborough region. Henry volunteered to be designated driver (which he later regretted), and we sampled lots and lots and lots of delightful wines. It’s fair to say that by the end (or after the first tasting in my case!) we were all well and truly drunk. Jane and I went halves on a delicious reisling, and then again on a servignon Blanc. But when we got back to the campground, sat around in our camping chairs and poured ourselves some glasses of wine into our multi-coloured plastic cups, the wine was, in fact, vulgar. Had we really been THAT drunk that it tasted nice?! Oh dear. Of course, we still drank it, and all woke up the next day feeling worse for wear and a little sorry for ourselves.