This week has been the quietest in a long time. So quiet I read a book in a day and was well into my third as the week came to a close and normally I don't even like reading. I have also come to the conclusion that if a town has lots of cafes there is a reason for that: there is diddly squat to do!
The week started with a short flight from Wellington to Picton, a hop over from the North Island to the South Island. At a grand cost of 31 GBP I saved myself a 3.5 hours on the ferry but instead got myself a very bumpy 25 minute ride which isn't surprising for a 12 seater Cessna. We got buffeted around by the wind but Iron stomach Rabbitts was alright after the initial lurches. Picton bored the pants off me. Even the Whales were out of season so I took to reading the Economist sat by the imitation Rayburn waiting for the free apple crumble in the very unfriendly Villa Backpackers. In 5.5 months and having clocked up 18 different backpackers since Perth some oaf decided to help himself to my food. Why is it always the dullest backpackers where people have the least traveller etiquette?
I was then off to Nelson and found another uninspiring town with even more dullards in my four bed female dorm. I stayed in and read my book and went to bed early only to be rudely awoken by the bird next to me grinding her teeth very loudly. It was such a distressing sound that not even earplugs drowned it out. I was then wide awake for two hours and set off the next day at 07:15 to Greymouth feeling very tired.
Greymouth equalled Picton and Nelson in the boring stakes but as I checked into yet another dull YHA the words "Brewery Tour" caught my eye from behind reception. At 18:00 I was off to Monteiths and was joined by the Magic bus so had plenty of people to talk to. I tried all the ales and even pulled myself a decent pint. Two firsts in one evening: I have never been on a brewery tour, yes hard to imagine I know, not have I pulled a pint. We then migrated to a local hotel and I had a fun night out with the Magic crew and Scotty their mohican sporting bus driver.
On Thursday I was back on the Inter City bus to Franz Josef. Franz Josef is a glacier town and it actually dawned on me that spending 7 hours climbing a glacier just isn't my cup of tea. I am simply not a snow and pine trees kind of girl more sand and palm trees and I can't see that ever changing. I had a sauna a the best of the bunch YHA but there where still plenty of unfriendly types milling around. I have come to the conclusion that YHAs attract dullards lacking in social skills. They wouldn't know how to start to organise a party! Having said that I did meet a really interesting Colombian with whom I practised my Spanish and met Rob who is buying my spare All Blacks tickets.
Friday was the 4th bus trip this week and it took 6.5 hours to Wanaka. We took it easy through the National Parks with nothing but trees and mountains to look at and it dawned on me that mountains don't really do it for me having grown up surrounded by tall snow capped peaks. In the evening I met up with Laura and Rob from Brighton who had been on the bus and headed out for a few Speights. I had found a town at long last with some life but the farmers in Bullock were all smashed and the clique snow gang in Shooters all insisted on wearing their ski gear and hats in a bar which is heated by a massive roaring open fire.
I soon realised that there was nothing to do in Wanaka apart from skiing and I spent very relaxed days in the warmth of Wanaka Backpackers. Once again the fellow backpackers were far from friendly. They were too engrosed in speaking in their clique about snow and evidently not able to converse on any other subjects. Added to which everyone seemed to have laptops and just sat for hours using them in solitude.
On Saturday evening I went to the watch the rugby on my own in Bullock Bar. It was the first place since the 7th June, the start of the Tri-Nations that didn't have on the sound and very few people watching Australia beat the World Champs. To top it all some of the inbreds managed to topple over a table and cover me in Bourbon and Beer. A few sharp words were uttered as I moped up the soaking mess! Luckily Stotty (Alwin from home has put me in touch with Ralph in Queenstown who put me in touch with Stotty) came to the rescue and we left the farmers, his words not mine, for a more sophisticated bar.
Sunday was completely relaxing. I called the birthday celebrating drunk Frenchies in Paris and it was lovely to speak to Delphine, Seb, Fred, Valou and Eric. Even the trendy cinema couldn't tempt me out into the cold and so my week ended as it began: reading.
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