Greymouth to Christchurch. Rediscovering life.

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I drove from Nelson down to Westport, but I didn’t spend the night there. I wasn’t impressed with Westport. It kind of felt dirty. On the way to Greymouth I discovered the most beautiful secluded beaches. In classic NZ style, I just turned a corner and there they were. They appeared out of no where. The mountains meet the sea. My camera battery died, so I tried to capture the beauty using the webcam on my laptop. I looked funny running around and pointing my computer at things. It's worth mentioning that I found peace and comfort at a YHA hostel that I didnt even stay at. On the way to Greymouth there is a little beach town. Before I reached the town, still in the mountainous hills, there was a YHA. It was hidden and I had to turn around and detour to get to it, but what a piece of heaven. It's like the world stopped there. They served fresh bread every day. The lodging (I walked through it) felt the way you'd want home to feel. The universe spoke to me there. I could feel it screaming at me to stay, but regrettably I 'pushed on' to Greymouth. Greymouth wasn't a bad stay or town. The hostel was directly across the street from the high school and just down the street from the local polytechnic-college. I even walked down the street and watched a women's league basketball game that was being played at the civic center. It was a Friday night and every bone in my body was screaming to go out and have a drink. All I could reasonably find was an Irish Pub (which I like) but was full (overwhelmingly so) with guys. There was one, ridiculously beautiful Irish girl playing pool, but that was it. So, I bounced. Sausage-fest is not my scene. I could hear (all night) the youth of the city out partying their asses off, but without knowing anyone and no reasonable way to meet any of them (and be that creepy, entirely too old guy at the party) I said "fuck it" and went to bed. What an old person thing to do.

The next day I got up (today) and did laundry. While I was waiting I met a nice Irish girl named Jenny (not the same girl from the bar, but they could have been related). We hung out while my laundry was drying. I 'pushed off' again and drove to Christchurch (finally). I've been trying to get to Christchurch since Wednesday. Now it's Saturday. I made it. It's a big city. It's nice. The hostel is big and full of people (which I like), but on the way here today I realized something. I planned my trip all wrong. I've been planning on going from one big city to the other. Auckland to Wellington, Picton to Greymouth, Greymouth to Christchurch. And that is exactly the WRONG way to go about NZ. A part of the beauty of this country is that approximately every 30k or so, there is a restaurant, pub, and inn of some sort. Almost all of them small and obviously locally owned, but nice and always comfortable and inviting. The people that run them are always there and friendly and sociable. And, there's always some local thing to do. I.e. see a coal mine, go whitewater rafting, go kayaking, 4-wheel driving, whale seeing, etc.. The things to do are endless (it seems). I should have been planning my trip and tops from small town to small town. That is definitely the way to see this country. As much as I love all that the big city has to offer, the real charm is the small towns.

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