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The last couple of weeks started with us sampling the delights of more wine and local ales around the Abel Tasman National Park in the North of the South Island of NZ. To earn these rewards several taxing 30 minute walks were invoked along various beaches although since then I'm pleased to report that the walking (or 'tramping' as it's known locally) is now back up to usual Hiles levels.
We were then joined by the Senior Hiles' and true to form, similar to their stint with us in Chile, our alcohol consumption has increased massively. We started off taking it easy (on Dad's credit card) as we converted him from a reluctant white wine drinker into a fan (with just a little gentle pressure from his favourite daughter-in-law) with plenty of wine tasting in the Marlborough area.
We then left the blue skies behind and headed to the west coast (touted as one of the wettest places on Earth!), expecting our fair share of wet weather, and a gawp at the spectacular Franz Josef and Fox glaciers. The weather was relatively kind although Rhian was especially pleased that we hadn't booked an ice trek in advance as the retreat of the glaciers over recent years means the only way to the top is by helicopter. I was plotting an A-Team style pill in milk doping scenario but I fear the wrath of my wife far more than BA Baracus and frankly we don't have the supplies of Vallium.
Every stint in our little van became an exercise in trying to drive for more than 5 minutes before stopping for another scenic photo opp and Dad soon learned to keep a safe distance in the family convoy to avoid flying into the back of us. We are still coming to terms with our campervan envy as our poor little van is dwarfed by theirs!
Several stops later has seen us arrive in Queenstown, in one of the most breathtaking settings any of us have seen, helped considerably by the powder blue skies we have enjoyed for the last 2 days. In yet another 'adrenaline capital' Team Hiles have stuck to their wimpy guns and enjoyed watching others get their thrills and spills. We've seen bunjee jumpers, jet boaters and skydivers, the closest we come to 'extreme' is the telling off I risk if I veer too close to the precipice edge in the camper.
We enjoyed a wonderful fresh fish meal here last night too courtesy of Grandad Hiles although it took a surprising amount of time (and wine) before we realised the irony of eating in a restaurant named…..'Fishbone'!
From here we continue with Mum and Dad north passing Mount Cook and some no doubt scenic lakes, we then part and they make their way to Christchurch then home, and we head south again getting further away from civilisation.
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