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My New Zealand trip inspired 28 pages of journal and hundreds of photos. I had to select among the photos. The last shall be first on this blogsite, so to follow my progress day by day go to number 1 in the New Zealand theme.. Each text page is followed by a photo page.

(continued)   The shops on Wellington’s main street are aimed towards the well-heeled shopper, predominating in brands like Vuitton and Prada. I am utterly allergic to such things, considering them a waste of money. Their goods are well made but so are a lot of cheaper things. In my opinion it is the name that is paid for, and their style is not always elegant.  I saw an Asian woman in a square in New Zealand with a Prada bag that was very plain, almost ugly in my opinion but with the name prominently displayed. If not for my diabetes I would have been more likely to enter one of the many shops selling gourmet food; chocolates, jams, many types of honey.

I noticed that there a many more narrow focus specialty shops in New Zealand than I am used to in Australia. One I liked was Mapworld in Christchurch which sells maps of everywhere.

Desultorily I strolled into Borders, browsing the New Zealand section first but did not see anything I desired there. On a whim I looked through the Science Fiction section for Simon Haynes’ books. Simon is an Australian who writes really funny SF starring an incompetent space pilot called Hal Spacejock. He is also a programme writer who gives away free and useful software from his website, including software for writers. http://www.spacejock.com.au/ They had his work and I spotted one I had not yet read. I reached for my wallet.

Boat from boat

I was at the Bluebridge terminal early and began to read Hal Spacejock, Second Course. Remembering the problem with getting a comfortable seat on the Interislander boat I made sure I was near the head of the boarding queue. I needn’t have bothered, there are plenty of reclining seats on the Bluebridge ferries.

There is a dining room with unpretentious wholesome meals and friendly staff, a bar, and a big outdoor viewing area. As I said, there are plenty of armchairs to slump in or watch the in-voyage movies if preferred. The day was fine and I got much better photos but I spent an hour or two asleep in my comfortable chair. On this voyage I made no people contact. It must have been my mood.

I checked in to Picton Lodge again and went back to the Dog and Frog.

Rugged eastern entrance, Queen Charlotte Sound

Day twelve

I rose on time and left Picton Lodge to walk the short distance to the Railway Station where I was greeted loudly by my supporters from the day before. The train was not to leave till 1.00 so I was told to be back by 12.30. The day was sunny and beautiful so I enjoyed taking photos by the water again. At my current walking pace I had no time to go on any tracks so it was the waterfront and town again. I feel quite at home in Picton now.

I set my alarm for 12.00 and when it rang I returned to the station. The lovely staff lady spotted me after I had been to the toilet and said, ‘Hugh! What are you doing here?’ With misgivings I replied, ‘Waiting for the train.’ She said, ‘It’s gone!’ It was well after 1.00 and my bags were on the way to Christchurch. Two others had missed the train too. Daylight saving had finished and most people’s clocks were reset by an hour. One of the phone companies had changed the time on phones all over the country without a warning notice and people all over New Zealand were missing buses, trains and boats.

New information: Daylight savings had not finished so what went wrong for all those people? Did the phone company make a bad mistake? Yes they did, daylight saving was extended by four weeks a couple of years ago and the date for putting clocks forward in 2007 was the date I was to take that train journey.

Ruefully laughing and joking with my mate about my luck I rebooked for the next day. She phoned Christchurch and arranged for my bags to be held for me. My medicines were on that train and when I booked back in to Picton Lodge I decided to take it easy and slept for most of the afternoon. Of course being a little unhappy had nothing to do with it, eh?

I had Haggis for dinner at ‘The Flying Haggis’. Lacking the old ingredient of sheep’s pluck or stomach it was a very tasty savoury mince with mashed potatoes on top, filling and satisfying. Feeling a lot happier I went back to the hostel and got online to write to Sue and apologise for forgetting her birthday. I brought this journal up to date and went to bed. (To be continued)

My New Zealand trip inspired 28 pages of journal and hundreds of photos. I had to select among the photos. The last shall be first on this blogsite, so to follow my progress day by day go to number 1 in the New Zealand theme.. Each text page is followed by a photo page.

(continued) I was tired after the strain of holding myself steady and shooting on the rolling deck and went in and out partly from need of rest breaks. However, my long term problem with seasickness didn’t appear. If I had a slight indication of it I was able to stop it. Food worked. I tried pressing on my ear lobes, thinking I’d heard it was a remedy. Though it worked for me it did not appear to help a fellow passenger who was having a bad time.

When the boat docked in Wellington it took a while to get all those people off. Those who had to go to their cars were given priority and I found a seat near the exit. The beautiful Quebecoise came along and looked round for a seat just after the young fellow sitting next to me stood up and went away so she sat by me and we had a real talk. It seemed both of us tried to say as much as possible in the short time we had. It was a rapid fire exchange and we both enjoyed it and kept going as we went down the gangplank and into the baggage collection area. Her plane back to Canada was leaving the next day and that was that. If only I were 25 years younger. She is a web designer. I do hate smoking though.

Wellington Harbour is magnificent with many peninsulas and all the hills overlooking it have houses on them. What views they must have on a good day. I did not have luck with the weather but it was still wonderful to see.

Coastline, Queen Charlotte Sound

I looked for touts for a hostel, or a van with a hostel’s name on it but only found a shuttle bus and asked the driver if he could take me to a backpacker’s where I would likely find a vacancy. He took me to one that had a lot of young people hanging around outside and when I went in and inquired it was full. The staff said all the nearby ones would also be full because of something on that weekend in town and they gave me a map and told me to try Nomad, down a couple of blocks and along three or four. The walk was not too much for me and I got a bed at Nomads.

The room was a four bed dorm but had its own bathroom. My room-mates were Phil, a plumber from London who hoped to become a counsellor, and Mark and Erin, two young commercial fishermen from Alaska. In summer they fish and in winter Erin delivers pizzas with great difficulty and Mark snowboards and wants to study.

I walked along the road and around the corner from Nomads and up the road a little way to a real treat, ‘The Asian Kitchen’. I tried a Burmese curry and it was perfectly cooked and beautifully flavoured, balm after ‘The Slip Inn’. The owners were Chinese and I enjoyed playing Zhong Guo Hua, China speak, with the lively wife of the couple and her younger sister. If you are ever in Wellington don’t miss this place. Find it.

My room mates went out for the evening but the two Alaskan lads were back by ten to rest for more travel the next day. I was dismayed to find the bar attached to the Hostel played very loud music until 1.00a.m. and a crowd of young clubbers chattered, laughed and sang below my window till half past. By then I was too awake to sleep.

Phil came in and went to the loo. I wanted to go about then and was concerned when he didn’t seem to come out again. I might have dozed and then a good bit later I got up, guessing he had gone out to party again but found him lying on the floor. This good man and I had a brief but deep talk earlier and he knew I have a heart problem. He didn’t come to bed, in the bunk above me, because he was afraid of disturbing my sleep. When I went to the toilet he slipped into bed. I lay a few minutes with tears in my eyes at his amazing caring act, before I went to sleep.

Day eleven

After my disturbed night in Wellington I reluctantly rose and set off in search of a ferry and breakfast. As I tramped along I unsuccessfully tried to flag down taxis.

It was not too long before I saw the bulk of a ferry and plodded on more happily.

When I came closer I saw it was a Bluebridge ferry and not an Interislander. Though I wasn’t sure if Bluebridge crossed Cook Strait to Picton I went in to enquire. They had more than one service a day and I bought the ticket for the first one, checked in my bags and went to find breakfast. Not far away I ate a vegetable salad then went window shopping.