Destination South

Juli's van was called Bongo. Blue with a yellow sun painted on the side door. He wasn't so fast climbing up hills, but he gave great camping balcony views out the back hatch.

Juli and I met at Swampy's Backpackers in July, both bonafide vineyard workers. By October we were both restless for skies other than Blenheim's, so we hit the road together, destination south.

Day One
Said a very teary goodbye to all the Germans (ok, with 18 of 28 guests being German, I guess there were a few Englishmen, Americans, Japanese, Finnish, Chileans, Malaysians, an Austrian and an Aussie around too, but believe me, they were scarce) at Swampy's. Drove off (with a minor delay when Rob lay down in the road in front of the van) in the late afternoon sun to Kaikura, an eastern coastal town halfway to Christchurch. We said goodnight to the mountains and slept 50 meters from the sea.

Day Two
Heavy rain, all the way to Christchurch. Stocked up with peanut butter and pasta from the New World supermarket and took a walk on the beach before settling in for the night in a golf course carpark.

Day Three
Still cloudy. Looked at photos of Antarctica and lots of stuffed birds in the Canterbury Museum; listened to a man in a kilt play the bagpipe in Cranmer Square. Ate fish and chips against an orange sky.

Day Four
Drove to Mt. Somers, watching plenty of sheep and cows grazing in yellow flowers under the Southern Alps along the way. My first tramp since my unfortunate run-in with a pot-hole! Juli (Did I mention she is a physiotherapist? How's that for serendipity?) loaned me her walking sticks, and together we braved the muddy inclines to see Sharplin Falls. There's nothing like being sedentary for six weeks to make you appreciate your legs. Afterwards I treated myself to a $3 glass of orange juice at a little shop near the highway, where we sat underneath a huge cherry tree in full bloom, gazing at the mountains.

Day Five
Had our first shower since Blenheim in the Fairlie Top 10 Holiday Park. Fried eggs and toast for breakfast. Did my yoga sun salutations underneath a cherry tree full of bees, looking, again, at the mountains.
Always the mountains now - they are everywhere. Stretched out on all sides of us as we drove - it seemed we would drive straight into them. That is Makenzie County - tussock and mountains.

Day Six
Third time up Mount John to the lookout at Lake Tekapo. Still breathtaking. The lake was like glass. Pine trees with spring green needles as soft as a kitten's chin. Buttercups everywhere.

Day Seven
We could look up at the peak of Mt. Sefton from the balcony in the morning. Blinding bright white snow against a deep blue sky. We set off on the Hooker Valley Track in bright sun, walking over swing bridges and mountain rocks, snowy mountains all around. An hour and a half later, we reached Mueller Lake, watching clouds pour over the mountains and almost falling over from the wind. The clouds and the rain followed us back to the campsite, and we peeled off our soaked clothes and crawled into bed until dinnertime - packet of pasta with four-cheese sauce, topped with a can of salmon and tasty (cheddar) cheese.

Day Eight
I saw a sliver of pink behind the curtain in the van when I woke up. Slipping on my sneakers, I braved the cold outside. Indescribable beauty. There is nothing like the stillness of the morning in the middle of the Southern Alps under a pink sky. I watched the orange sunlight creep down Mt. Sefton's peak and then fade to white.

Day Nine
Touched a lamb for the first time. A little merino, less than 24 hours old. There were two, actually; both their mothers had died. The man who owned the backpackers where we were staying (with all due respect to Bongo we both agreed it was time for a bed and another shower) was going to look after them until they were grown. Juli and I watched them in awe: ears bigger than their heads, legs sticking out all over, noses wet with mild. Soft as silk.

Day Ten
Goodbye to Juli and Bongo. Stuffed all my New Zealand possessions into my 50lb. packpack and hopped on the bus to Wanaka with Raquel, another vineyard buddy from Brazil. Final destination? Swampy's of course. Can't get enough of those vineyards. Or the Germans.