30 January 2008

NZ part 4

Kaikoura means 'to eat crayfish' in Maori. I was surprised by this, as I thought it may mean 'to see thousands of seals that look like really cool dogs that swim'.

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Sarah couldn't believe it, either.

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They were everywhere, frolicking around. Apparently, they swim for up to three weeks then come in here to sleep for a few days.

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Jordan had told me about a little skatepark on the beach. Pretty fun, though the kids ruled the roost and I just had to wait my turn, then teach them how to stand up on their boards. Ever the ambassador, I took it all in my stride.

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Nice setting for a grind or two.

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We stayed with Jordans' dad Chris in his house right on the esplanade. Chris is almost exactly like Jordan in every department, looks, mannerisms, gentle nature, the lot. One of their only differences is that Chris is not into having his photo taken. Jordan freakin loves it.

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We were drinking this stuff like it was coca-cola. Sweet beer.

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This op-shop was pretty amazing.

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It's in a dump. Pretty confronting, but completely logical.

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We went for a walk, starting on a beach made of tiny black rocks that burn your feet.

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Skippin'

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Luke Skywalker grew up around these parts.

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Chris and his friend had warned us about the darker side of the seals. They apparently bite you if you get too close, as they are wild animals and are trying to rest. We came across these two blocking our path and didn't know what to do.

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Attempting to clamber above them, they got really pissed off, baring their teeth and roaring at me. I still found time to blog.

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Somehow we got past and wandered on, no longer enthralled by the stinking seals.

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The rocks looked like brains.

29 January 2008

NZ part 3

I know I'm getting a bit behind, it's been a bit crazy since we got back from NZ. I've quit my job and moved into a new house, plus Martin and Haidee came and stayed for a week before moving to Sweden. I'm back on the program now.

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We drove into the Marlborough Sounds, which are essentially mountains sunken into the ocean, I think.

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Stocking up on drinking water at a little waterfall conveniently placed on a track named Bridle Path, originally cut for horses.

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Read it and weep, Australia. No snakes either!

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Due to some unfathomable bad navigating from myself, we drove for two hours on the craziest roads imaginable, ending up at a dead end with a noose rope swing and not much else.

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We drove all the way back and then drove for another two gruelling hours and ended up at French Pass. It was pretty average. We went for a walk and started running down the zig-zagging track. In an attempt to overtake Tom, I dashed down a lesser path to try and miss a zag, but slipped and fell down the mountain!

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I slid through the undergrowth, trying to grab hold of trees, which just snapped off in my hands. It was hilarious. Sarah and I had a good laugh, I tried to get up, then started to fall again, this time backwards!

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I ended up here, which seemed very close to the beach until Sarah and Tom appeared, putting the scale of things in perspective. I had to gingerly scuttle across then down a climbable section of the pretty sheer drop I was about to fall down.

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I was up there somewhere. Great anecdote.

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On closer inspection, with the added seasoning of narrowly avoided death, French Pass looked amazing, a small section of ocean where it gets really shallow then really deep again. At a slightly lower tide, the ocean churns around like a washing machine, apparently.

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The way back, on the same road. We knew time would be kind to this day, but we were well over it by this point. Look at Tom, he looks like a cow!

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Tom was warning us not to take too many photos of spectacular views, but hey, it's digital.

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Finally got back to Pelorus and set up camp a few minutes down the river from the camping grounds, at an ultimate skipping stone park.

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Live by the van, play by the van. V for Vendetta. What a film. Look at his cheeky smile.

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Roasted bananas with chocolate

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Got up early next morning, had a few skips.

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Tom and I took a last dip at the rock at the campsite, then had a shower. When we returned to the van, Sarah was being abused by the campsite owners for our crimes. The van didn't do us any favors here.

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Tom insisted on hanging his 'Expozay' brief swimmers off the mirror to dry. Who were we to refuse?

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After meeting a friendly communist road worker who also lived in his van, we dropped Tom at the ferry, so he could continue his adventures on the North Island. We headed south. Another update tomorrow.

23 January 2008

NZ part 2

Being on the road is quite intoxicating. You drive and drive, check things out, find a great place to stop, eat, sleep, get up and do it all again. It's especially good when travelling with Sarah, as she comes so prepared.

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Reefton skatepark is pretty epic, in the middle of nowhere. They forgot to put metal edging on most of the blocks too, which gives an authentic grind/slide. Bummer is, all the parks in the south island seem to get weathered by the rain and are a tad rough, not the silky smooth finish I am used to.

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Picturesque spot next to a very swollen river after two days of crazy non-stop rain. There must be about a thousand sandflies hidden in this picture! The madness!

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Sun goes down...

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...sun comes up! Sort of.

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We went to Blenheim to meet Tom. While Sarah went to have a run and get allergy pills to combat sandfly madness, I took a roll at the park. This is the breeding ground of NZ Chris, although I'm sure the park hasn't been here for that long.

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Picked up TJ and amidst stories of crippling migraines, oxygen tanks and hospitable murder suspects, we took a ride to sunny Picton.

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From Chris' recommendation, we proceeded to Pelorus river, by all accounts an incredible spot. For some reason, bloggy didn't see much action that first afternoon of rock jumping and floating, but it did come out for our late night glowworm spotting adventure. These little dudes were everywhere!

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