Once again my committment to the blog is called into question...!

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What can I say, I've been busy!!

Not sure how many people are reading this anyway but I thought I better provide another update, given it's been a few weeks!

So when last I wrote, I was in Christchurch and planning to head off towards the west coast within a few days - which is exactly what I did. After a fabulous week in Christchurch, during which I developed the very bad habit of lying in every morning and basically being quite lazy (some would call it recharging the batteries and hey, I can settle for that!) I hopped on a bus a few days after my last post and headed across the southern alps. In my defence, I did do a few decent bike rides and walks in Christchurch, I wasn't entirely couch-potato (and given the post-earthquake situation in the city there isn't a vast amount to do anyway!).

So I set off once again on the faithful bus, through the mountains to Arthur's Pass, where I stopped at a lovely hostel for one night. Hostel owner was, Mike, a larger than life American who was highly amusing and just one of those people who seems delighted to be alive! Very welcoming after a few hours on a bus (although I think he traumatised a few tiny japanese girls who spoke very little english and, to be honest, seemed utterly terrified by this enormous, loud, bearded american man).

Arthur's Pass village itself is tiny - consisting of about 10 dwellings (I can't really call them houses) and a General Store which sells, well, not very much! Although it does double as a restaurant and I confess I treated myself to 'the full english' in the morning - superb!!). The village is nestled in the mountains with the main road running through it- you could easily be forgiven for driving right on through, barely noticing the place. But that was one of the nice things about it. It's not really a touristy spot, just quiet and peaceful and the surrounding mountains meant there was always a view to behold. Plus there was a variety of walks, ranging from half an hour to 5 days in length, so something for everyone. Accordingly, on arrival in the bright sunshine I planned to go for a short hike the following day before my next bus collected me.

Cue the morning downpour. I woke up to hear rain hammering on the roof and my korean roommate looking less than enamoured with the 'changeable' New Zealand weather. So I went to the General Store cum restaurant for my big breakfast (well, you know, I only had a snack for dinner the night before! Pah, I don't need to explain myself to you!). The rain was still coming down when I finished so I trotted back across to the hostel and read my book for a short while (Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility since I'd read the 4 books I'd taken to last me 3 months within 3 weeks - got to love hostel book exchanges!). Lo and behold, around 11am the sun came out and it was as if the rain had never been!

So I quickly booted up and headed up to the closest waterfall, the Devil's Punchbowl. Absolutely spectactular and well worth the walk (all 30 minuts of it!). Feeling that half an hour's walking didn't really justify the breakfast I'd had, I then branched off to walk up to Bridal Veil Falls - unfortunately you cant get as close as I expected but still, with the good zoom on my camera I was able to see the real majesty of the falls, as well as adding a good couple of hours on to the walk, making the breakfast seem a little more acceptable!

The weather stayed beautiful the whole time I was out - so much so that Mike began to question my Englishness (he'd spent the morning blaming me for bringing the rain so I was quick to point out that the sun had been out the entire time I was out of doors). Once we'd settled that I was a genuine English girl (with the understanding that the sunshine must have been a result of my Indian heritage) he asked where I was headed next. I casually answered 'Greymouth' but made the fatal mistake of pronouncing it in the English way, such as Bournemouth or Teignmouth (i.e. ending with a 'muth' rather than a 'mouth' sound), at which point he yelled 'Grey MOUTH, MOUTH' (sending the japanese girls, who'd just settled down for a late lunch, scurrying for cover.

Apparently Kiwis are a little touchy over that particular pronunciation (Mike had been berated for the use of 'muth' when he first arrived in NZ however many eons ago, so felt it was his duty to shout the correct pronunciation at whoever would listen if it ever arose in conversation. I was beginning to understand why the village had never expanded beyond the 10 dwellings - coincidentally Mike's hostel seemed to be the most recently built). So the rest of the afternoon was spent with him going about his duties yelling 'GreyMOUTH' at the top of his voice.

Needless to say, when my bus arrived a few hours later all I heard as I exited the hostel was 'GreyMOUTH, it's the bus to GreyMOUTH!' coming from one of the rooms. I'll give him this, I won't be mispronouncing that again in a hurry! 😊

So I headed off to GreyMOUTH (I can't read or write the word without hearing his voice in my head now), a couple of hours further along the highway, and checked in at the Global Village hostel for the next 2 nights. Another lovely hostel - much as I'm a Lonely Planet purist, I have to say the Rough Guide has done me proud thus far!

The following day was bright and sunny so I jumped in one of the free hostel kayaks and went for a paddle around the nature reserve lake and marina directly behind the hostel. It was lovely and peaceful (once I'd got through the first section which was a little grubby with a lot of flies) and I saw all sorts of wildlife - a huge hawk-like bird circling right overhead whilst hunting in the reeds, a couple of herons (one black one - I didn't know they came in black!) and a plethora of other birds and some fish. David Attenborough eat your heart out! The only precarious moments were my getting into (or should I say onto) and out of the kayak. For starters it was one of those sit-on ones which I forgot have small holes in - I forget why but in any case, you can imagine the words that left my lips as I quickly, stealthily and elegantly sat down in a sudden pool of water. Of course my first thought was that I'd picked up the only 'dud' kayak and was in imminent danger of sinking straight to the bottom of the river (yes, in the grubby part). But I soon realised this was meant to happen so just had to settle for the soggy bum.

Getting out was another matter - the 'boat ramp' was basically a plank of wood with a few other sticks nailed to it and a rope to pull yourself up with (if you could reach it). I actually managed this better than I expected - only got one foot soaked when it slipped in the water, and nearly knocked myself out with the oar as I tried to fling it up on to the grass (took 3 attempts as it kept sliding back down the ramp). But I made it out and provided some entertainment for the guys in the neighbouring garden to boot.

So after a shower I wandered into the town and had a look around with a German girl, Antonia. Sent some postcards and we also went along to the Salvation Army store on a book-finding mission. I found a great book, 'Hunting and Gathering', which I think was written by the same author that wrote Amelie, for the princely sum of 50 cents. Bargain!

On returning to the hostel I met some of the new roommates, one of whom was an American girl called Anahita (half American, half Iranian). She had a hire car and was driving to Fox Glacier the following afternoon so very kindly offered me a ride, which of course I snapped up!

I went for a bike ride in the morning, up to Port Elizabeth (about 45 minutes out of town but all flat roads, hurrah!). As I arrived and prepared to do the additional 45 minutes on foot up to a lookout point, I suddenly remembered i hadn't put any suncream on. So that put paid to that! I had managed ok up to that point but I though another few hours would see me burnt to a crisp. So I turned the bike round and started to head back. Had a moment of excitement where I saw two little brown birds ferreting around on the verge. My first thought? Wild Kiwis!! On closer inspection, actually nothing more than two young ducks. Ahem. At least nobody was around for me to have exclaimed to. And I deleted the photo I took from 10 metres away. So nobody ever needs to know...

I also passed some guys who had evidently thought that driving their camper onto the beach was a good idea. I had seen the van on the way up but hadn't seen anyone with it, but as I cycled back past the two guys were doing some spectacular wheel-spinning which only served to bury the van (a rental vehicle) even further up to it's axles in sand. I stopped and asked if they wanted any help, at which point both stood upright and leaned against the van in what I can only assume was an effort at nonchalance, and assured me they were fine. I suspect, had I been a big MAN they might have responded differently but as it was there was obviously nothing this GURL (looking good in a cycle helmet) could do so they claimed they were fine. I suggested that they try wedging a large piece of wood under each rear tyre to give the van some purchase (there was ample driftwood lying around the beach) and then went on my merry way. I looked back briefly to see one of them picking up some twigs that were lying around. I hope this wasn't an attempt to follow my advice - maybe they were just resigned to the fact that they were going to be spending the night on the beach and were going to build a camp fire?

For all I know they might still be there...

On my return to the hostel I was amazed to see I didn't seem to have burnt at all. Maybe finally becoming accustomed to the New Zealand sunshine?

Anahita and I packed up the car and she went to collect her friend, Austin, from the station (he'd flown to Christchurch the night before and just got the tranzalpine train across) and then she collected me and we headed off to Fox.

To be continued...

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