At St Arnaud in Nelson Lakes National Park a bitterly cold southerly wind from Antarctica turned the rain to snow on the mountains and summer reverted to winter. And while my days are interrupted by rain, my nights have been interrupted by other nuisances. In Picton I was kept awake by a German woman snoring in the next tent like a walrus with blocked sinuses and in Marlborough Sounds everybody had to listen to the couple in the blue tent having sex! Then in Nelson somebody decided it was a good idea to put the campground right at the end of the airport runway.
Of course I should be grateful I made it to the South Island at all after a fantastically rough ferry crossing of the Cook Straight. Time after time the ship climbed up huge waves and then plunged down the other side in an explosion of white foam. Regular readers of this blog will know that I spent 19 days at sea crossing the Atlantic Ocean on a cargo ship and now consider myself to be a bit of a salty old sea dog ... or perhaps just an old dog. Either way, I don’t seem to get seasick and while other passengers were vomiting into sick bags, I enjoyed not having to queue at the cafeteria for my cup of tea and gluten-free cookie.
As you can see this blog comes from Murchison, a pleasant farming settlement with surrounding green pastures tucked away in the mountains. I’m glad it’s a nice wee place as I’m presently trapped here by torrential rain and flooding that closed local roads and almost floated my tent away. Fingers-crossed, the sun will be out soon and play can resume.
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