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Published: March 1st 2007
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Picton
The way we entered the South Island Language:
Well the language still continues to intrigue me - I overheard Jenny and her aunt discussing putting ‘Jugs on’. My mind awash with lurid images I sadly discovered that in fact Jugs are Kettles….shame.
Diary:
Ben and I cycled from Auckland to Kawa Kawa bay on Sunday without the girls or luggage. At just 40 miles it felt hard and we both wondered how we would fare when carrying our passengers. However it was a beautiful cycle (once we’d got off all the big commercial roads we used to get out of Auckland). Through citrus groves, past vineyards and a huge Buddhist Temple. We also went through a new housing development, where most houses were 2 storey and some were terraced - so different from the sprawling city centre and suburbs.
We met up with Jenny and the girls at Clevendon for an ice-cream and at the local craft market (knitted lacy things) I had what I thought was a mini pizza, but in fact it was half a bread roll with tinned spaghetti on top, then broccoli, mushroom and melted cheese, you can also get spaghetti toasted sandwiches!
We spent 4 lovely days at the beach in a
Picton Cafe Life
The Girls fit in well spacious bach with excellent views. The sea was fabulous for swimming….and the local dairy even better for ice-cream. There was a friendly Weka bird that would wander round the garden, and seemed only mildly disturbed by the commotion of excitement from the girls. Next to the house was an expanse of bush, and one morning we headed off into it with the bach owners. The Weka birds are seriously endangered in the North Island and the community at Kawa Kawa bay is one of only about 3 remaining. The possums and rats, eat their eggs and young, and most of the available food, so the Weka Watch trap the possums, rats, ferrets and stoats (none of these are native to NZ) So we went on the almost daily trap check to see what had been captured, the girls were completely unfazed by the two stiff possums stuffed into plastic bags! Everyday was sunny and most nights at the bach were cool, but on the last night it was so hot we slept with all the windows open and on Thursday morning Lily arrived at our bedside looking like a pincushion. Mosquitoes had attacked one side of her face and both
Picton Campsite
The train trundles over our tent arms. Thea had many fewer bites, but they both spent the morning scratching like crazy as we cleared up and prepared to leave. So we cycled off to Papakura with ambition….some antihistamine.
Even though we were fully laden we both enjoyed the cycle to Papakura, and for the first time in my life I was able to stick to Ben’s back wheel. When we went to Africa he was a tiny dot in the distance at the start and marginally closer by the end - but now well we are both wondering how to transfer some of the weight onto my bike.
After a visit to the pharmacy in Papakura we took the girls swimming - what an education. An amazing pool with running streams, fountains, helter skelters for all ages, but absolutely filthy changing rooms. It is the first time I have been anywhere in NZ that looks well used. In the pool it was heaving, with many mothers fully dressed supervising their children from the side of the pool (I expect to save on the adult swim cost - Ben and I spent $6 to sit in a variety of pools, but not actually swim). It would be
To Nelson
Our First day in the saddle with full lugage a complete anathema to the Buxton pool, the idea of parent walking around in shoes on the pool side. Even more extraordinary were the number of women and men actually in the pool who looked completely dressed, denim shorts, T- shirts, 3/4 length trousers, sarongs you name it -some did actually have a swimming costume somewhere in the mix. The French would have a fit, considering they insist that all men must wear speedos in the name of hygiene (I suspect it is to deter flashers - as you are just about completely exposed anyway!). So as you can see I thought $3 was well worth it to learn a lot about NZ in a very short time.
The following morning we were up early and headed to the train station - when the train drew up we were advised - even though we had a ticket in our hands - that his records showed that our bikes were not booked on the train. He had 20 people getting on in Hamilton and he could not take us. All the passengers boarded and despite my insistent protestations (you can imagine!) - he closed the train doors and prepared to leave! At this minor station there was no one from the Tran Scenic rail operators to help us out, and it took 10 minutes to get one of the local metro staff to loan me a phone to call the freephone number to find out how they planned to get us to Wellington. However all this time the train was still standing in the station, and suddenly the doors opened and one of the staff said we could get on! Quite what happened we will never know, but we did get on the train. The ride was as promised - scenic, and we were sat next to a lovely woman who read and talked to the girls and smothered them in tea tree oil to stop their bites itching - it was really effective over the 12 hours we sat together. By the time we got to Wellington the girls were exhausted and we cycled straight to Rowena’s Lodge: a heaving mass of youf and a very mad woman with 2 kids. The girls were bouncing off the walls (actually the bunks) by the time we got our dorm and found it difficult to sleep and so did we with the argy bargy going on in the corridors. Thea was up early, as ever, and we all dragged ourselves to pack up and eat breakfast and get the boat to the South Island. We all survived the boat ride - and discovered to our delight that the parents room contains an adult size bed. Coming into Picton is absolutely beautiful and we stood on deck admiring the coastline of the Queen Charlotte Sound and the luxurious bach’s that you can only get to by boat.
We are now happily resting at a campsite at Picton, right by a stream with a nice childrens play area, and our tent is almost under the viaduct that huge freight trains roll over all hours of the day and night! If any de-rail we will be gone, but that is part of the pleasure of staying there, literally sitting almost underneath as they rumble over….so rail tracks permitting we’ll have cycled to Nelson by next week.
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