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Published: April 11th 2005
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Hi, its me again,with news just in from the south island of NZ.
Have covered a lot of ground (surprise surprise) since the last one. A theme has emerged over the last week of 'record breakers' so this log is dedicated to the TV programme of the same name.
Its worth mentioning that on my way down to Stewart Island, I went near a place called Geraldine which has the
world's biggest jumper. Its BIG. However, I would also like to enter it in another category of
world's worst jumper. There lots of embossed sheep emblazend onto a argyle background. Unfortunately I don't have a photo to express the awfulness of this extraordinary item of clothing.
Anyway, yeah, I spent a couple of days in Dunedin, climbed the
world's steepest street. Its VERY steep and chock full of boy racers trying to get their Mum's car up it in first gear. All you can smell at the top is the aroma of burnt out clutches. Sweet.
I met some cool people in Dunedin (most of them from Sheffield), staying in a really homely hostel.
Moving on, I headed straight down to Invercargill. Invercargill is the gateway
to Stewart Island. I am now very suspicious of places described as 'the gateway' to somewhere. It usually means you'd better not get your hopes up. It was pretty dire. Lots of scallies hang out on the straights and harrass you as you head to pak'n'save to get a delicious evening meal. The YHA,
the world's most southern YHA (am I clutching at straws?) proved to be a sanctuary as usual and met more cool people (all from Manchester this time). Is there no escape from England?
Stewart Island is a gorgeous place. A population of about 400 people mostly live in a town called Oban, with 1 cafe, 1 pub (locals try extra hard not to get banned) and 1 hostel. 85%!o(MISSING)f the island form the newest national park in NZ. You can go on 3/4 days walks staying in huts along the way. I settled for a trip to a yet smaller island, Ulva Island, which was beautiful. I think there was only one other person there. It was a wildlife paradise and boasted loads of secluded beaches and bays. I didn't get to see the southern lights but caught a cracking sunset. The next day,
I met up with a fellow backpacker (from High Wycombe!) and we did a day-walk round a couple of the headlands. I have never felt quite as remote and isolated as I did this day. It was nice for a few days but anything more than a week would probably result in me babbling to myself a lot. Wierdly, the owner of the cafe didn't really like the place (despite spending 12 years there on-and-off). It gets really bleak in winter when there are no tourists. The island is going to change in about a year when a tour company will start to ship 4000 asian tourists a day there. The place will be overrun with tourist day activities and gift shops. So folks, get there sooner rather than later. Either that or write to your local New Zealand MP.
Leaving Stewart Island behind, a wittled away another day in Invercargill (the gateway to somewhere else), then headed up to Milton. I had read in my accommodation guide of a laid-back hostel with sauna, fresh bread and free juggling lessions. Deciding that this was too good to resist and checked it out, meeting
the best hostel owner in the there's that penality
top left hand corner - beauty! world. He was called Tony and was Swiss. I have just realisd that this makes him Swiss Tony. Fantastic. There were only 4 of us staying there. Me (fluent in English) and all other guests (fluent in anything but). Not only did Tony act as translator most of the time but also cooked for us, washed up, did my washing (hurrah) and taught us juggling. Yes, I can now juggle. Its all been worthwhile. Spurred on by such grace, I felt my faith in life and humanity was at an all-time high. Tony was also a great conversationalist and had some great travelling stories. It was indeed a shame to leave.
The coach then took my to Omaru. Nothing much here except penguins and limestone buildings. I think this place was less good because the hostel was NOTHING compared to Milton. Anyway, I moved and finally arrived back in my surrogate south island home Christchurch in time for the weekend.
The weekend was spent with my friends Rob and Jane and their two adorable daughters, Anna (3) and Beth (1). Rob took me to see his team, the Cashmere Seniors play the Cashmere Men In Black. Yeah, yeah,
I hear you. It was 2-0. Rob scored a cracker. Then a penalty. Happy now? The rest of the weekend was chilled. Christchurch is an amazing place. Within about 2 hours is a maor city, beaches, skiing and a host of other things to do. This is my last full day here and am sad to leave it behind. Using it as my base for the past few weeks, it does feel like home. That is except for the YMCA hostel. That couldn't less like home if it tried. Last time I was there, I was sleeing in the bunk above
the world's loudest snorer.
As my time draws to a close here, I'm off to a concert tonight to see Jack Johnson. Everyone I've met has raved about him. Flukily got tickets and hope to meet up with some people I met.
Tomorrow I head to the north island and Wellington. Bonza.
That's all for now. Enjoy the photos.
Love A.
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