The French are Coming, The French are Coming ...

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Waking up this morning and not being able to see our breath was quite a novelty, but no surprise as it had been raining in the night. What was a surprise was the glorious sunshine when we pulled back the curtains. In fact, it has been really hot all day today - we really can’t believe how lucky we have been with the weather!

So, once more over the longest bridge, we drove down to find the site we couldn’t find last night. It was quite a way, and it was a lovely site, but it was much further out than we thought it was, so we decided we wouldn’t stay tonight. The countryside was very flat, and we weren’t surprised when we passed through Lincoln, and it was very reminiscent of the Fens. There is a big university at Lincoln, and we thought of our Emma who is in the process of graduating from University of Lincoln back home.

We were on our way to #33, Akaroa and the Banks Peninsula, and we could see the mountains of the Peninsula in the distance and getting closer. So, you may recall when I was giving an overview of the Waitangi Treaty that a French nobleman had arrived in NZ, stuck the French flag in and declared himself King. He didn’t get very far. But there was another French settlement - in 1838 a French whaling captain purchased the Peninsula from the Maori and returned to France. In 1840 he brought 63 settlers back. Just days before they landed, the British dashed down to the South Island and claimed sovereignty for Britain. Otherwise, it was very nearly the case that the South Island would have been French territory!

As it is, Akaroa is perfectly delightful, with French street names and apparently still quite a strong Gallic presence. There is a French celebration every other year, and the French flag flew proudly from several homes. We decided to walk to the French Settlers Cemetery, which involved a very steep climb and a considerable amount of whinging from me. We were so disappointed when we got there, because apparently the cemetery had been deserted for so long, it had been cleaned up in the 1920s, but there were only two nameplates to see - both dating to 1842.

We were really thrilled to see some more spectacular scenery, overlooking the volcanic lakes and the sea and bays so very many metres below us. We drove the ‘tourist road’ which was considerably higher, very narrow and more winding than the standard road, but the view was fantastic. At one stage we’d pulled over to take a photo, when a vehicle flashing an orange light came round the corner. ‘That’s funny’ I thought ‘that normally means there’s a wide load coming’ ... and there was ... I’m still not sure how we all got past each other! (The drivers wished us a happy holiday as they drove off!)

We were especially delighted that we’d had such a wonderful day, because tonight is the last night in the van - part of me says ‘hoorah - no more chemical loo’ and another part will feel very sorry to hand in back on the morrow. We were very keen to park somewhere with a suitably spectacular view for our last night, and we’ve done very well as we’re parked on the banks of Lake Forsyth with a variety of birdlife ... including a chicken!

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