'Fiji' time in the Beachouse...

So we got off the plane in a very green and luscious looking Fiji to be greeted instantly by two things. The long forgotten feeling of heat and a traditional Bula band belting out traditional hits. Next up was a huge line of people queuing to have their documents checked by customs but this being Fiji things were definitely going in 'Fiji time'. It took an hour to get through customs, but at least everything was done with a smile, which kind of makes up for the lack of any kind of swiftness i suppose.

Our accomodation, The Beachouse, was on the south of the main Island Vitu Levu so we would have to take a long, slow journey by local bus. In the end it took two and a half hours but we did manage to meet three Manchester lads who helped to pass the time as well as watching a documentary on the in-bus tv about what would happen if humans disappeared. Interesting choice...

When we got to the Beachouse we were already impressed by it's size, it was a big complex that consisted of a few dormitories, a big decked pool area, beautiful beach and traditional Fijian beach bungalows, which we had. Apparently it was where they filmed 'Celebrity Love Island' which, even though I hate to admit it, can remember a tiny bit of. either way, the place was about as 'backpacker' as it is possible to get, which suited us down to the ground, I.e things were relatively cheap.

Although it was warm it certainly wasn't meltingly hot as we had expected it to be and the wind, which was pretty much blowing over the palms, was just so strong. Even so, we braved the elements to sunbathe the next day on giant hammocks tied to two cocunut trees. The beach itself, at high tide anyway, is stunning, as you can probably make out from the picture above but apparently, in terms of Fiji's beaches, it's a bit second rate (cant wait to find first rate).

It does feel strange though, both shell and I feel as though we should be moving, or at least be putting more money on the parking meter. Even sleeping as been hard. 2 months in a metal box has rendered us useless gypsies, unable to cope with the permanent world.

On our second night we were invited to the local village by a couple of the staff to meet the local rugby team and take part in a traditional Kava ceremony. Apparently the local rugby team had got through to the final of one of the islands main cup competitions where the winners would receive over 4000 Fijian dollars. Eddie, who invited us over to the village, sat us down with many other villagers on the floor of a largish community hall around a large metal dish. After some general chit-chat with very friendly locals we were passed round our first coconut cup of Kava. The liquid, rung from a tight muslin cloth created a grainy, semi thick substance that was dark grey in appearance. All in all they passed the cup around about seven times by which time the relaxing feeling and numbness of the mouth had started to take effect. They say it is mildly narcotic but we hardly felt a thing other than a feeling in the stomach that only comes with knocking back a litre of murky water. To be invited to the ceremony was a special feeling and mixed in with the general easy going nature of the locals was already a humbling experience.

A couple of days later, after me, shell and the Manchester lads ploughed through a large bottle of Bounty Rum the night before, it was the day of the big game. Feeling quietly horrific from the night before I left shell behind to recover on the beach whilst me, and five other lads made the long walk down the hill into the next village to wait for our 'minibus'. Chuta, an old guy who works at the beachouse, had been pestering us for days about booking some kind of transport to the game and after his initial whacky quote of 50 dollars each, finally settled for a more realistic 20. When we got there, we could see essentially the entire village piling laboriously into the back of what can only be described as a colourful old army truck. From past experience, especially Asian, I think we all knew what we would be getting into. The pictures in our head of an air conditioned ford transit vanished within seconds. The van itself had room for maybe 15 people but after we were literally shoved in the back i think the number was actually about 60, not to mention baskets full of food and lots and lots of children.

The journey, we were told, would take three hours. One hour along a real road to the next big town along the coast, Sigatoka, plus two hours inland along an as yet complete dirt track. The second half, as you might expect, was sheer Torture. I managed to get the best 'area' with my head stuck out of the back of the van but with a small Indian man sat in between my legs with his head faced towards my groin. He didn't seem to mind though. Even though after every bump his face crept a millimetre or two closer towards my special place.

Upon arriving, I don't think you have ever seen six lads look as pleased to see an overgrown rugby pitch. At least the locals accepted us as lucky mascots for the Blues, the village side we had come to represent.

In a scene like something from an old African tribal movie we were given seats next to the manager and players whilst the villagers, in their hundreds, stood behind specially placed ropes. The game itself was a whitewash and ended 27-5 to the Blues, the team we were supporting. They were absolutely breathtaking, lightning quick and as strong as bulls. After the winning team had been handed the cup we thought, stupidly, that we would be making the long journey back. Instead we were first walked down to a village a further mile down the road where people came out from everywhere (hedges, houses, sheds) to greet us with the now familiar bula!

We were taken into another large village hall where we were sat down whilst many different men slowly poured in to take their rightful positions cross-legged on the floor. After about half an hour of sitting in silence they started another Kava ceremony. This was more poignant as they were essentially having a post-match pint with the opposition on their patch. After a couple of rounds of Kava we were then told to go and eat with the team who had gathered over the road where women hovered around dishing out boiled cassava (like a potato) and a river fish that I can't remember the name of but which tasted like Sea Bass. It really was delicious stuff but with not a light to be seen anywhere, it could have been rotten leftovers for all we knew.

In all honesty, such levels of hospitality depressingly leave you with that Westerner thinking of 'what are they trying to get out of us?? Annoyingly that's just how it is but here strangers and tourists are treated like gifts from god and ask nothing in return from you.

If the way up there was tortuous then the journey back was just totally insane. By this point it was getting late and we wanted to get back so without hesitation they put us on the team bus. Well, this was a team that had just won one of the countries biggest rugby cups with a prize fund to be shared out equally which meant the loudest bus journey I have ever heard. The bus was packed and stopped every twenty minutes so that the team could pile out and stock up on this White spirit mixture which was in old milk cartons which they told us was 'Fijian brew', it tasted like turps.
Added to this was music so loud it made your teeth chatter even though they only had six songs. Six songs on loop for four hours! By the time they dropped us off we were twenty minutes away from going insane but despite this the lads treated us like friends and were accepted with constant high fives and yet more mentholated spirit. I know we may have moaned a little throughout the day but let's face it, these are the stories and the days in which you will always remember.

For the past few days we have been taking advantage of the beautiful weather to sunbathe on the White sand beach and making good use of the free use of kayaks and afternoon tea! It's a nice touch having afternoon tea but it's a little like watching piglets jostling for milk. Still, the tans are making a startling comeback so the shallow sides if us are content once more!

Anyway, we have another week here in Fiji before that epic journey over to LA so I think we are going to leave the beachouse to try somewhere a bit further around the coast to mix it up a little.

From the most laid back country in the world, Bula!!

Xxxx

From the Coromandel to Cape Reinga, the final NZ chapter......

So we ended up staying a couple of days in Mount Manganui, a great little beach town just to the east of Tauranga. First we had to navigate ourselves past Mothers Day where, it seemed, anyone with a heartbeat had descended into the town to quaff on cake. Whatever happened to people just staying indoors whilst their kids conjure up failed attempts at breakfast in bed?? For the next three days the weather turned increasingly nasty. If the first five or six weeks in NZ went firmly against the meteorological grain then the past week or so have been, I guess, quintessentially NZ. On Monday afternoon we headed into torrential rain and gale force winds around the bay of plenty to a place called waihi beach, a beautiful stretch of coast that unfortunately resembled, on this day anyway, childhood holidays in Swanage stuck in a dark caravan for twelve hours whilst my dad recovered from a migraine. Despite the best efforts of the weather to put a dampener on things we got a great spot in front of the crashing waves where we whiled away the hours drinking wine and playing games...oh how the real world is going to hurt. The next day we were off to do a circumnavigation of the Coromandel Peninsula, a gorgeous slice of coastline that juts out northwards east of Auckland. In the summer the population of this part of the North Island almost quadruples with an influx of tourists both domestic and foreign, but this very much being Autumn it was very quiet. Still, despite the incessant rain and battering winds we drove onwards up the west coast along a road that literally hugged the sea for 45kms where, once again, NZ's drivers proved there capability for being utter wankers (sorry mum). We decided to stay in a small place called Coromandel town which, in the daylight the day after, was a really cute little place with cool architecture inhabited by residents who wore cowboy hats and wellies. You know the type.

So onwards we went, cruising around the north of the peninsula before stopping abruptly, a few kms outside of the Coramandel's main town Whitianga at a place called Cathedral Cove. Now although NZ's tourist landmarks have been in the most part extraordinary examples of nature, some have been tediously built up for no apparent reason other than to make bystanders stop and pay for the usual tourist by-products such as ice cream or magnets. This, thankfully, wasn't one of them. Even the weather, which up until now had been horrifically bad, decided to dramatically clear to leave beautiful clear skies. The cove itself was incredible, in fact the whole area, the beach, the bay, the giant arch created by years of erosion plus a perfect waterfall that created a rainbow effect as it cascaded from the cliff-top above were all really amazing to see. Even more so due to us having the whole place to ourselves until, just as we got up to leave, a packed bus full of loud tourists got off and came traipsing down the hill. Some things just work out too well. From there we left the beautiful Coramandel to stay at a campsite literally in the middle of nowhere but which had something we would remember for a long long time. At the side of the campsite, covered by a large canvas roof was a huge thermal pool. As we were, yet again, the only people around we quickly made use of this amazing pool with one of the most spectacular night skies we have ever seen, anywhere. It was almost as if, as we lay there in 40 degree water, that a thin layer of cloud was above us intermingled in the stars but amazingly we were staring at the milky way, up there in all it's super-stellar glory, just beautiful. So on we went, yet again trailing a path northwards but this time to NZ's largest city, Auckland. In the map, on the TV, in the papers and generally among the people it is almost as if Auckland has it's own gravitational pull, dragging other towns and people into it's orbit. In reality, it feels and looks like a bigger version of Basingstoke.

After paying for a pitch at a campsite on the edge of the city run by an Indian woman who took an instant dislike to me, we were on our way into the city, via public bus! Our first impressions of Auckland's centre was that it looked about as generic as it was possible to get. I suppose it had the feeling of a smaller Melbourne just without any of the buzz. It didn't look horrible or anything just lacked the character and vibe of other cities of the same size. We spent the afternoon walking around the city centre, grabbing some coffee and sushi in the process before heading back later in the evening feeling a little bit average. As we were giving the campervan back in a few days we decided to leave Auckland behind and head north in pursuit of something more interesting. We had four days and planned to do a circumnavigation of the northland without realising, in hindsight, that this was a huge distance.

We passed some fantastic beaches on the way up and by this time, thankfully, the weather had started to change leaving a landscape that looked more South Pacific island than new Zealand. Before long we had pulled into the Bay of Islands, one of NZ's top tourist drawcards which despite the guidebook exclaiming it's overhype was absolutely stunning. Cove upon cove of deserted White sand beaches with the clearest water you could imagine. They say that 80% of the time water clarity extends ten metres or more, which is incredible if you think about it. Due to our financial situation (or lack of there of), we turned down the opportunity of a cruise but then we could see how beautiful this area was, islands included, from the shore and didn't miss out on a bloody thing. You can see why so many people come here, it was, to all intents and purposes, pure perfection.

From there we headed northwards stopping briefly at a place called Mangonui to eat quite possibly the greatest fish and chips (fosh and chops if your from New Zealand) we have ever eaten. I know I keep dishing out these superlatives (amazing, fantastic, beautiful etc) like sweets but honestly, it is all 'that good'. We shared a weird but beautifully tasting fish called a bluenose complete with traditional chips. Not gourmet by any standards but these kiwis certainly know a thing or two about fosh and chops... So all that was needed to do now was drive the 200kms to the far northern tip of the North Island, a place called Cape Reinga, a magical place where it is said Maori souls depart to the after life. It was a huge drive up there, much longer than we anticipated, but we were rewarded with the arresting sight of two bodies of water- the Tasman Sea and the Pacific Ocean colliding together below from the elevated position atop a sheer rock face adorned by a famous lighthouse. It was the perfect place to essentially end our NZ adventure due to the sheer symmetry of visiting both the far south and far north and over 6000kms in between.

So how can we sum up our time here?? Well, we've spent 61 days in a van. 61 days where we have traversed, in most respects, the entire country. It is a country that is unspeakably beautiful, incredibly remote and populated by people that have a deep love for their country without shouting it from the rooftops. In fact its a kind of subdued patriotism where 'all blacks' flags appear not waving high from the top of a ford transit but hooked discreetly on to wooden gates in some obscure part of the country. It's also a country that never takes it self too seriously such as possum patties being sold next to an animal care clinic or condoms, lube and pleasure products sold on a supermarket display entitled 'winter relief'. In the end, we spent over two months in a van and didn't kill each other. If that isn't testament to a solid relationship then I don't know what is.

Peace and love, Tommo and shell xx

Thermal Taupo, eggtastic Rotorua and a mediocre birthday...

So at last we had made it to the centre of the North Island and it's geothermal and scientifically important centre. First up was Taupo, sat on a huge lake of the same name, the remnants of the worlds biggest volcanic eruption of the past 5,000 years. Unfortunately our luck with the weather well and truly broke here; it was awful, like a wet weekend in Runcorn. You see you can be in the most faraway, exotically sounding place in the world but unless the sun is shining and the thermometer is up, the people look miserable and everything is tinted in that off shade of grey you see most days in places like Leeds. Even so, Taupo, much like Rotorua to the north, is jam-packed full of geothermal activity and we intended to make the most of it. First up was the Craters of the Moon, a unique place that stretched for a mile or so with piping hot steam filtering out of the ground and violently boiling mud dotted around the area. It really was like being on a different planet, just one that smelt like an egg factory. Due to the incessant rain we skipped most of Taupo but did stumble upon a wicked little cafe where the owner had spent years turning the large outside space into a kind of Gaudi-esque tiled, mosaic living room. We took pictures so you can see them above.

So on we went. After a wet night in Rotorua where the van decided to leak over our heads we headed over to waka-tipu, a giant thermal wonderland complete with the famous Lady Knox geyser which, after being told by a stern official is pronounced Gii-ser rather than the often used gee-ser. It explodes everyday at 10.15, not of its own accord but by a guy pouring soap crystals down its spout! The place was staggering though, I could not do it justice by explaining other than letting you look at the photos above.

The next day we decided to get acquainted with traditional Maori culture so visited a place called by a much much longer name but shortened thankfully to waka. This village is still populated by several Maori families and lies completely on the geothermal faultline that produces so much activity. All around the village was boiling hot pools, steam and at the head of the village, two huge geysers. We started the morning by witnessing a traditional Maori dance that involved the famous Haka. I guess most people have heard of this war dance as NZ's all blacks perform it before every game, whether Maori or not. But when witnessed up close and in a traditional Maori setting it made the hairs on your neck stand up on edge. They even had an audience participation part where they looked around for a volunteer (please don't pick us, please don't pick us) and opted for Bill from Ohio to perform the Maori greeting of pressing noses together. Our guide that day was brilliant, he showed us everything from the way the village is run through a network of chiefs and tribal councils to how the village all use the geothermal pit in the middle of the village to do all of their cooking (a whole chicken steamed to perfection in ten minutes!).

So there we go, another famous part of the world ticked off and memories secure! The next day was my birthday which promised so much but unfortunately delivered so little, unless you count a lot of toilet stops. Essentially my attempt at making eggs benedict in the camper wasn't the greatest idea, nor was it a good idea to do a 9km run up mostly steep hills the day before, silly boy! Whichever it was that made me feel bad I spent most of my day on a library toilet. We then drove north to Mount Mangunui where, brilliantly, we spent the night drinking champagne in a holiday park full of empty caravans. Not exactly the birthday dreams are made of but memorable nonetheless... Anyway, just over a week now until we move on to Fiji. I think it is safe to say we are definitely starting to get excited about beaches again! Hope everyone is well and you have all put the finishing touches to your 'what we are going to do when shell and Tom return' itineraries. Much love xx

Marlborough wine tasting, windy Welly & the Art Deco streets of Napier....

Five weeks we had now been on the south island and I think we were both ready to move on, over the Cook Strait to the North Island. Before that though we had one last thing we needed to do, wine tasting!

We had been looking forward to this for a very long time, not least due to shells fascination (I want to say addiction- just not in the AA sense) with Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc.

We booked ourselves into a great little backpackers that let us park our campervan so we could still sleep in it which made it much cheaper. The guys that ran it, a lovely old couple, were like a long lost aunty and uncle. They called us by our first names and told us to be careful as we sped off on our bicycles in search of our first wineries.

There are over thirty wineries in the area so unfortunately we could only visit a handful of them but as we were later to find out, that would be more than enough.

So we left in the morning after one of the coldest nights I can remember and off into the vines, sliding effortlessly along perfectly flat roads until we reached our first cellar door, Cloudy Bay. The place was simply immaculate, decked out in mock Mediterranean paraphernalia. To be fair, they were all stunning so it would be a bit boring to explain them all to you but let's just say this, we had a staggering day, literally.

I think our favourites were Allan Scott and Giesen but we learnt so much that day from all of the wineries that simply drinking a glass of wine will never be the same again. For instance, the location of the wineries is paramount to the taste that you want to acquire. Riverside vineries will acquire a fuller-bodied wine due to the clay content of the soil whereas Coastal wineries will be cleaner with a slight metallic taste due to the mineral deposits found next to the coast. And so on and so forth...we learnt so much and spoke to so many different people that if you'd asked us at that point to drop our respective careers and head into winemaking, we'd have chewed your arm off.

The day after, feeling pretty awful after drinking wine for ten hours straight we headed around the glorious Marlborough Sounds, a maze of unspeakably beautiful little coves and beaches which, in the glorious sunshine, looked more than perfect. It would be the perfect antidote to what we had coming the next day, the famously rough Cook Strait crossing from South to North islands.

It was awful. No matter where we sat or stood on the boat it really didn't matter, the huge ferry rocked violently from side to side. To be fair, the first hour of the journey was just beautiful as we wound our way around the serene Queen Charlotte Sound, part of the incredible Marlborough Sounds.

After three hours we finally arrived on the North Island and into NZ's famously windy capital, Wellington. Thankfully for us it wasn't too windy but instead was bloody freezing! It was sunny and clear but so cold, like one of those crisp winter days we sometimes get back home. Anyway, we stayed in Welly for a couple of nights as it was a cool little city. It had a really interesting waterfront where the huge national museum, Te Papa sat and also a few microbreweries serving really delicious beer. Welly itself had some wicked little places to eat including tonnes of little Asain noodle houses where we ate really cheaply (for NZ) on roti chennai (that amazing Malaysian concept we ate every morning in Kuala Lumpur), spicy Hokkien noodles and spring rolls.

It was almost like a much smaller version of Manhatten in a way. The whole city, despite it's small size, just seemed to have a really nice feel about it. A really interesting place full of weird architecture, strange people and awesome food. Not a bad place to spend a couple of cold days in.

Anyway, from there we faced a five hour drive, cross country to the east coast through what can only be described as a part of the world that has absolutely nothing to offer. If we thought, as we do in the UK, that we are the only country in the world to suffer from a shite culture of fast food joints and aggressive looking youngsters in stupid looking cars then, if this area has anything to go by, we would be gladly mistaken. New Zealand is fantastic, don't get me wrong, but just like Australia you can't help but feel that when you leave the main cities and drive through the small towns, you are looking at people who still collect gollywogs.

For the next few days we spent our time in Hastings and Napier, two pretty towns sat along Hawkes Bay, a huge sweeping bay that resembles, to me anyway, a big bite of an apple.

We stayed a night in Hastings, but only to pay a visit to it's local farmers market, one of NZ's most famous. It was, as markets go, up there with the best of them. We bought some amazing bread and stocked up on fresh veg and tried a plethora of foods such as black pudding, sausage, houmous, Turkish bread, all locally produced in the region. You see, the greatest thing about these markets is that the people who attend them seem to take them more seriously. This in turn helps the Market to shed the novelty factor and in doing so brings down the prices. Which is the reason these markets should operate in the first place, to bring fresh and interesting produce to the general public, at affordable prices.

Up next was Napier, a town obliterated in the 30s by an earthquake and rebuilt in the art deco style of the day. amazingly, due to superb planning and conservation, every single building still remains to make the biggest concentration of art deco buildings in the world. It's fantastic to be around, it almost makes you want to walk around with a swagger and a tommy gun.

Hawkes bay is also a hugely successful wine producing area and Napier, being it's centre, provided us with yet more opportunity to divulge! It was here where we got the opportunity to do an interactive wine tasting. We had to pick from White or red, we chose White, and got ushered into a room that resembled a small theatre. In front of us was six White wines which, when the film started to play, all became apparent. We were essentially flown around six different wine producers who told us all about their wines whilst we drank. Amazing! Next up, was a tour around the aroma room. Essentially, every different kind of aroma you could acquire from a wine. From citrus to stone fruits, toast to leather. They even had soil and horse to represent which smell you would associate with an off wine. It really was fantastic stuff.

We spent two days in sunny Napier, taking in the town and planning our last month and a half on the road. It's a fair old distance to most places in NZ but if you ever get the chance, go to Napier, you will not be disappointed.

As for us, we are both really well. Looking forward to our last couple of weeks here and exploring the geothermal wonderlands!

Hope some of you are still reading on, we'll be doing tests when we return...

Much love. Tommo and shell xxxx

Whale watching, beer tasting and mussel chomping in Marlborough and Nelson...

It all feels a little strange really. We've been in NZ now for a month and we've had, believe it or not, only one day which was slightly wet- even then it was only a shower. Not bad for a wet country in the midst of Autumn! Everyday has just been beautiful, cold nights for sure but clear skies every day. Easy to get used to! With that in mind we parted Christchurch for a second time but this time heading north towards the wine regions and all that Sauvignon Blanc! First up was a small town a few kilometres inland from the Coastal highway, Hanmer Springs. As the Easter holidays had now finished and all of NZ were seemingly tucked up in their homes, the town was eerily quiet. Anyway, the next day we did what came out here for and paid our entrance money to spend the day in a series of geothermal hot pools. There were around twenty pools in total ranging from everyday jacuzzis to large, open hotpools, all between 35-40 degrees celcius. Apart from being stared at for the entire time by a strange lifeguard and sharing the pools with what seemed like New Zealand's entire nursing home population we had an awesome time, we came out like shrivelled prunes!

From the beauty of Hanmer Springs we drove onwards towards the coast past, amazingly, Sheffield, Rotherham and Chesterfield (really) and towards Kaikoura, a place most famous for it's abundance of wildlife, especially its whale population. It seems, according to our guide the next morning, that from the beach the sea depth is only around 80 metres and then all of a sudden, around a kilometre from the beach, drops almost 800 metres due to a huge continental shelf. Ocean currents then push nutrients that would otherwise lay at the bottom of the sea up from depths of nearly a kilometre to the relative shallow waters above. This creates a perfect feeding ground for large deep ocean marine life to feed so close to the shore. Although we've nearly run out of money we knew that whale watching would be one of those things, whatever the cost, that we just had to do. It was expensive but then the three hours we spent on the boat were some of the most memorable we have spent..anywhere. After getting to the freezing wharf just before sunrise we waited for the boat to pick us up and take us out to sea. As we stood there the sea and sky in front of us turned a kaleidoscope of different colours as the sun slowly but surely climbed its way over the sea's horizon. Reds, oranges and deep purples slowly appeared and the bright sun on our faces told us that we would soon stop shivering. Momentous news. Soon enough we were on the boat with a crew made up of genial Maori's, all explaining what we would be doing over the next few hours. After about ten minutes we caught our first glimpse of native wildlife as we sailed passed a pod of maybe a hundred dolphins, all vying to gain our attention. The guys only gave us five minutes to get acquainted with these beautiful animals before we were off again, in search of bigger mammals, a great sign of things to come.

After searching for maybe an hour (by a guy sticking a specially made piece of sound equipment to pick up whale communication in the water) we saw our first sight of this most impressive of animals, a giant, twenty-five metre Sperm Whale. We stood there on the top deck just staring. What a sight. It's in moments like these, on a boat in the Pacific, looking at one of the worlds biggest animals, that you understand exactly why you are here. Unfortunately, after a few minutes of gentle lolling we were informed by the captain that our whale had, well, fallen to sleep. We did return an hour or so later but by this point the whale was in an even deeper sleep, so much so that he was now vertical in the water with his scar strewn head bobbing gently out of the water. Different to what we expected but fantastic to see. On the way back, as if we had not already seen enough, we were lucky enough to see a huge albatross, a seal, many more dolphins and a shark. Such a great morning. One of the best.

In the afternoon, after our early morning exploits we found the nearest coffee shop and refuelled for a circumnavigation around the Kaikoura Peninsula, one of NZ's great walks. It didn't disappoint. We walked around the coastline for three hours in a large loop finishing 11 kilometres later back at the campervan. The walk took us past some of the old whaling grounds where we stood slack jawed after learning of the old whaling techniques at the turn of the last century. At least we finally got to know where, "there she blows!!" came from. From Kaikoura we headed north and into wine country. We had entered Marlborough district. One of the places we had both sat dreaming about on our sofa before we set off last September. Unfortunately, as the weather looked a bit dodgy for the next few days we decided to leave the wine-tasting-by-bicycle for a few days until something a bit calmer was forecast. So on we went, past Blenhiem and onwards towards Nelson, NZ's oldest town. On the way, due it's popularity and the fact that is just sounded so godamn tasty, we stopped in Havelock for some of NZ's famous Green Lipped Mussels. Moules Marinere this definitely wasn't. These buggers were monsters! If you can imagine the size of a normal mussel, you got it? Well these were five times bigger than what you've got in your head right now. The pot had 15 of these in and we struggled. Although they were delicious.

Over in Nelson, the streets were packed with local producers selling they're wears at the biggest farmers Market I had ever seen. It was awesome, school children reciting Maori songs and dances including a spine chilling rendition of the Haka (don't look in their eyes!). We wandered around in a food and drink induced haze, intoxicated by wave after wave of amazing smells. Tantalising of course, but to save money we headed back to the camper for soup, truly heartbreaking! Anyway, Nelson was a cool little town with a funky local population and some awesome looking buildings, apparently NZ's oldest. on our way out of town we visited one of the many micro-breweries in the area to do a beer tasting. We were given six beers in total, the full spectrum of pale ales to heavy stouts and sat there pretending we knew exactly what we were talking about, "mmm very hoppy this one shell"....think we had a clear winner though.

From Nelson we ventured further around the coast to one of NZ's most visited tourist sites, Abel Tasman National Park. Looking more like the Thai islands than a windy south Pacific outpost the colours in this area were out of this world. Although we didn't have the time or money to do the full 60km Coastal trek (you had to pay for water taxis to take you to the start point) we managed to do a three hour trek and get a good feel of the area. The park is made up of desolate, pristine White sand beaches and beautiful little islands. Shame we picked a freezing day to see it all! So there we go, another immensely packed week on limited funds! We've had to make the executive decision to change our flight date back to the UK as we've already mentioned, were nearly out of money! Still, we figure there would be no better place to be skint than Fiji! It will only be a couple of weeks early though-nothing drastic! Anyway, love to you and happy Mayday, Tommo and shello xx

A mouse, jetboating and getting chilly at the glaciers....

From the majesty of Milford Sound we travelled back down the Milford highway for about 40kms, through the 2km Homer Tunnel to a small and very rural little campsite called Cascade Creek, run by the DOC. to say it was dark when the sun went down would be an understatement of mythical proportions. You could not see a sausage. Also, due to parking up with no one around and next to a large, dense forest seemed to give the whole thing a bit of the Blair Witch effect. To compensate for the lack of any light the night sky was simply staggering, a superlative justified on this occasion as we saw satellites, constellations and shooting stars. Back inside the van, after settling down for the night trying to ignore the various unsettling noises surrounding the van I noticed out of the corner of my eye, whilst we watched a movie, a small friend had joined us. A small and not-so-timid mouse. I thought I was seeing things but knew what I had seen. And so started the worst night I can think of. Seven hours of trying to hit a small rodent in my pants with a wooden spoon. I'll leave you with that thought for a while. The next morning, with our little friend seemingly on board (he had probably fallen after all his excitement sleep bless him) we headed onwards and towards Queenstown, stopping briefly in Te Anau for coffee. After a couple of hours and after passing at least two Lord of the Rings film locations we reached Queenstown. We had heard about Queenstown a lot both in the guidebooks and from other people, essentially based around it's popularity as an adventure sports Mecca. What no one mentioned was how stunningly beautiful it was too. After spending a night in a horrible campsite that had both the look and atmosphere of a building site crossed with a drug-fuelled youth club we ventured out the next morning and out into Queenstown to explore it's salubrious surroundings. It was beautiful, and made even more so by the time of year. With it being Autumn the trees had turned a multitude of different colours and leaves littered the floor and gathered in big clumps. The smells were amazing.

Anyway, despite it's beauty, Queenstown is, as mentioned, a place where exhilaration is what people come for. So with that fact in mind we scoured the vast array of activities on offer and decided that as a treat we would pay for a jetboat ride that would take us at insane speeds across the lake and along an adjacent river. It was unbelievable, roaring along at around 60mph in water no deeper than a couple of inches. Awesome stuff. From there we took a self guided tour around the town then headed west through another stretch of truly amazing road until we reached Twelve Mile Delta, a stunning conservation campsite situated next to lake Wakatipu. Just another in the long line of stunning locations we have been fortunate enough to wake up in. The next morning, after a brief visit into Queenstown for coffee we headed north down a half-forgotten dirt road for around half an hour until we reached Lake Moke. It was another perfectly sunny day so we whacked on the walkers and started out on a 8km lake walk. We even had the energy to run the last two or three kms together, Shell running-believe it!

We ended up staying around the lake that night as it was just too beautiful to move. The lake, almost split in two by a jut of land was two separate colours on each side and was circled by pristine hills on both sides. Unfortunately, it's geography, come night time, was it's ultimate downfall. The way the hills enclosed the valley and lake meant that cold air being pushed down became trapped. This meant that an already cold night was made so much colder. The ranger the morning after told me that it had got down to -4. Not record breaking I know but when living out of a metal box it was painful, literally. The next morning we left the beautiful Queenstown behind and headed for Arrowtown, a small but perfectly formed little place that seemed to have everything just right, maybe too right. Almost like a show home. It was a complete humdinger for tourists but then hey, it was beautiful. After drinking coffee in another great little place we took a walk around the town finishing down at the Chinese settlement. These little stone cottages, almost 150 years old were used by Chinese gold prospectors who not only had to compete with the brutally cold winters but also a local population who despised their presence. Fascinating stuff.

From there I convinced Shell to go for a hike, one mentioned in the guidebook as moderate to hard that would take 3-4 hours. I can safely say that in nearly nine years of our relationship I have never seen Shell so momentously pissed off. To be fair, once again the walk started steeply. In fact for about an hour we snaked up hill through a gorge in between two mountains until we reached a plateau at the top. By this time Shell was convinced that we were lost and were going to have to call the mountain rescue or something but we kept walking and eventually got to the end. We even passed a couple of seasoned hikers who looked at Shell in one of those 'are you a little bit insane' kind of ways. Anyway, from Arrowtown we once again headed north towards Wanaka, another stunningly beautiful town set beside a large lake, lake Wanaka. After travelling so hard for a few days it was really nice to relax for a day so decided to stay an extra night and check out Wanaka's most famous thing to do, Puzzleworld. It was astonishingly good. Essentially two halves, one was dedicated to illusions and tricks of the mind (we will try to attach videos) and the other half to a huge fenced maze. We had a great time here despite the hoards of irritating children (NZ Easter holidays) and totally rolled back our inner child once again.

Before leaving Wanaka we decided to drive the tedious 40km down a very rocky gravel track to a small car park deep within the mountains. This would be the start of the Rob Roy glacier trek, 10km of paths of which over half were uphill. At the end lies Rob Roy Glacier, a huge foreboding arc of ice surrounding by dramatic rock formations. Once again we pummelled our way through the trek, the first half was a good workout but we made it to the top to be met by yet another stunning vista. They are never ending. From there we drove for around three hours to catch a sight of, in the late afternoon, Fox Glacier. We parked up then set off on the 2km walk to the ice terminal (front of the ice shelf). Although mightily impressive, it had that same dirty tinge that we had seen at the other glaciers we had visited, probably the worst time of year to see them. Still, to see such momentous examples of the power of nature literally a couple of kms from the roadside and more amazingly, from the sea, is something which makes it even more remarkable. The next morning, after our usual coffee fix at one of the little alpine cafes (real coffee snobs by now) we headed out for part two of glacier watch, this time to Franz Josef. Arguably more impressive than Fox due it's size it was amazing to see and even more impressive how these beasts had gouged out huge valleys, with sheer, jagged rock faces on each side. We could only get 500 metres away from the shelf due to safety concerns after two Indian tourists jumped over the fence to 'get a closer look' at the glaciers in 2009. Turns out a piece of ice, about as big as my mum and dads 4x4 landed on them. Only one body was recovered. Idiots.

From the glaciers we once again followed the road north, this time for almost 300kms up the lonely and desolate west coast stopping briefly in small Coastal towns including Hokitika. What we haven't mentioned yet, I don't think so anyway, is the royal nuisance that are sandflies. They are pretty much everywhere in NZ but especially along the wetter west coast these demons are just horrible. Smaller than mosquitoes, they only bite during the day and are, fall all of their nuisance, slow as f**k. You feel a tiny bit of pain and see the little black buggers enjoying a bit of leg. Fortunately, if you are walking, which is pretty much all the time here, you can outpace them as they are incredibly slow. Our legs have literally been covered in bites from these pests though and they itch more than mozzie bites, arrrrrggh! Anyway from the West Coast we then drive inland and over the desolate and foreboding Arthurs Pass, a remote wilderness area that connects pretty much the entire west coast with Christchurch, on roads you wouldn't want to take a soapbox down in. We even passed the remnants of a huge accident where a huge lorry had smashed through the barriers and down a sheer drop. The roads here are crazy! Just so you know, Shell did an exceptional job of winding our way through the slalom roads and delivered us, after stopping for the night next to a lake, in beautiful Christchurch. So there we go, pretty much full circle of the south island before we head up to Marlborough and all that wine! We've had to come back to Christchurch to swap the van as old mousey I was telling you about, well, he just doesn't want to end his free trip. Anyway, as I'm sure you can tell we continue to drive, jive and thrive in this wondrous land. Ta ta for now. Love Tommo and shello xxxx