First we drove to takaka to watch the England v New Zealand rugby match in a small town local pub. We got plenty of stick as New Zealand systematically dismantled the English defence. We also got to see a tubby man in wellingtons fight an old man with one arm. The fun of rural NZ!
After the game we set off in the dark to find somewhere to pitch our tent. We finally found a spot behind a bush at a picnic site.
Camping outside of a registered camp site is illegal in NZ and each person can be hit with a $200 fine. Imagine our anxiety when no sooner had we set up the tent at around 10:30 a car drives up straight next to ours and points it's headlights straight at our hidden camp spot.we dove into the bushes (something I'm now getting used to!) and waited.
It felt like about three hours, although I'm sure it was only a maximum of 15 minuets but eventually the car left. Probably doggers. So we went to sleep!
We woke early Sunday morning and packed up after enjoying a nice stroll on the beach.
We drove all the way up to farewell spit, a sand spit many miles long, projecting into the Tasman sea. It was very nice. Especially when we got over to the west coast. It was a very wild and rugged landscape. Jack and I commented how it would be a great paintball or quad bike spot. There were armies of small grassy dunes studded uniformly along the beach. These formations were interspersed with quicksand. Completely un definable I would occasionally sink up to my knee and fight for my freedom.
Then we took a 'short cut' -you know where this is going- it was Jacks idea, for once I wanted to stick to the track. An hour later we were still fighting our way through stiflingly dense vegetation, bogs and small mountains. Eventually we found our way back to the car. Not before I figured it a good idea to army crawl across some dense reeds on a bog, dispersing my weight would stop me getting wet right?
No,
Lying down on reeds in a bog leads to loosing balance and doing a handstand in pewtred stinking brown water.
Anyway we got back and drove to whariki beach (pronounced freaky beach).
It was stunning, rugged and desoloute. And there were wild seals and awesome caves everywhere! We mucked around for a bit and climed a huge mountainous dune on the sea front and sat and watched the sea for an hour or two.
We then nipped over to the worst lighthouse ever. A seriously shit automated box we had to climb a mountain to get to before driving back to collingwood wood for a beer, fish and chips and another night in the tent.
Monday we drove straight back to Nelson so I could get to work. Stopping once at the jester cafe, voted best cafe in New Zealand. It was pretty nice, with a rustic Alice in wonderland feel.