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After a perfectly tame crossing of Cook's Straight (either I'm a born sailor, or people greatly exaggerated how rough the waters would be), I arrived in Picton and promptly organised my first multi-day tramp, the Queen Charlotte Track in the Marlborough Sounds, a nice introduction considering the range of accommodation available along the track and the fact that water taxis drop off your bag at each stop. Nonetheless, it was a particularly brave/moronic thing to do, as I had just purchased some brand new, and thus not yet broken in, walking boots (I'm sure you recall how I lost my sole in the Tangoriro National Park). Needless to say, my feet suffered. But not so much due to blisters, but rather my little toes got completely smashed to pieces and now my toenails have turned black. Yes, it is gross. Anyway, the views of the Sounds were breathtaking, and apart from the day I stayed at Noeline's Homestay to sit out the storm, there wasn't a drop of rain (a wise decision, considering the number of trees across the path the next day and the glorious weather that followed).
Now, let me tell you about Noeline. An 81 year old universal grandmother, world traveller (58 countries from the age of 67 onwards), storyteller (including her latest adventure involving being suspended upside down in car, stuck up a tree), "there couldn't be two like me" Noeline is an inspiration. I arrived after a long day's walk to be greeted with tea and scones, followed by "that's the good news, the bad news is from now you do it yourself." A lie, as it happens; she kindly provided a hot-water bottle at nights. I was treated to all kinds of stories about her life and travels, and received a running commentary on the various television programs we watched in the evenings. After my unusual two-night stay, it felt like I "had been there forever", which I think was meant in a nice way as I was not allowed to leave without a hug.
Leaving Picton, I headed straight for Golden Bay, for no other reason that various people had asked me if I was going to go there. I haven't regretted it, spending an entire week at Shambhala, an eco-conscious backpackers (composting toilets, solar power, rainwater, etc) right by the beach, with morning meditation and twice weekly yoga sessions, and just down the road from the Muscle Inn, which brews its own excellent beers. The area is home to a number of artists, the scared Te Waikoropupu Springs, some beautiful bush, the stunningly desolate Wharariki beach and bird-sanctuary Farewell Spit, as well as providing access to the northern part of Abel Tasman National Park (where as well as being beautiful in its own right, it was fascinating to see the devastation caused by the above-mentioned storm).
And now it's pretty quickly down the West Coast, for the "must see" pancake rocks and glaciers, aiming to meet up with my cousin in Queenstown at the weekend.
- comments
Kate I like how you managed to work that "lost my sole" joke in again.
Mark Great blog.. I can't believe you know Nancy Sinatra songs... I do, but... I would only add... Da Da Da Da Da Da Da Da Undela Undela Undela la la la.... (But I would walk 500 miles ...)
Jen Crikey sounds fantastic! Really glad you're having a good time, and beautiful photos xxx