Nu Zilland - Day Three

This morning was another spectacularly warm and cloud free day – perfect conditions for our long drive up the west coast into Nelson. I know that the kind weather is a key factor, yet I find myself enraptured beyond all conceivable expectations with the lush green landscape, the shimmering blue sea, and the towering jagged mountain ranges. We were even able to see some beauty in the lovely sparkling star that suddenly appeared in the center of our windscreen as a double tanker truck kicked a rock into our path.



Note to self: re-read that travel insurance policy, since the rental agent made it a point to tell me I am wholly liable for windscreen damage.

At any rate, there were plenty of amusing road signs to further divert us from that glassine tragedy.

For better or worse, I was unable to locate any penguin roadkill, although I did see heaps of possums. However, Kevin wouldn’t pull over to let me collect their tails, despite the knowledge that there is a pub to the north that pays a one pint bounty per tail.

We stopped off at Pancake Rocks (What an odd coincidence that the Maori word for Pancake is ‘Panakaki’…er…) a bizarre formation of flat-stacked limestone rocks that form a series of violent pools and impressive blowholes. Unfortunately, the blowholes are only truly impressive when the weather is truly shit, but I was not the least bit bothered by the tradeoff.

It’s been a long time since we’ve had a long drive in the country, and I learned that my city left-side driving skills reside in a different portion of my brain than do my rural left-side driving skills. It took a great deal of concentration to remember which side of the road to enter when pulling out of a scenic overlook. Luckily, the roads were nearly deserted, which further enhanced the pleasantness of the journey.

In the small village of Murchison, we stopped into The Commercial Hotel to deliver a photograph to the mother of our friend and neighbor in Shingletown. It was a fun surprise for her, even though he had just returned to California from a visit two days before…it makes the world feel smaller to meet someone who knows someone you love especially when they are halfway around the world.

Leaving Murchison, we were flabbergasted to see a field filled with reindeer – or maybe there were elk – either way, they did not belong in a fenced pasture. Neither did that yak. I’ve never actually seen a yak, but I am pretty damn sure that is what it was, cuz it sure as hell wasn’t a Texas long horn. Then we bought some fresh raspberries from a roadside shed fitted with an ‘honesty box’ and closed circuit security cameras…which reminds me…I should eat some right now…oh, yum.

For fear of sounding like my Aunt Bette, I am reluctant to describe my vacation meals in too much detail, so I will suffice to say that on the whole, I find the fare in New Zealand superior to Australia. I credit that observation to the fact that in the early days of the country, a group of explorers – upon discovering that they could not claim the country for France – decided to say “fuck it” (or whatever the French would say under such circumstances) and settled here anyway…I cannot say for certain whether French influences germinated a pizza topped with garlic, bacon, and bleu cheese, or its presentation (served in a box shaped like a coffin) – but it is a brilliant combination!

Rats, now I’ve gone and ate all of my raspberries…