The last few weeks have all been about the nature, the huge skies and landscapes that dwarf you in New Zealand, the lakes, the mountains, the beaches, the sunsets and the stars, like Ireland on steroids. There may be forty shades of green on the Emerald Isle but Kiwiland isn't far off by my reckoning.Apologies if the superlatives get a little tedious.

Leaving Dunedin I landed in Te Anau, where a kindly Kiwi seeing I was lost (in a town centred around a T junction) dropped me off at my hostel, a British outpost with a spectacular view of the sunset over lake Te Anau, better than watching any movie was seeing the oranges, pinks and reds unfold over the lake and a glass of wine.The next day (after I let him beat me at pool ; ) Steve kindly gave me a lift to Milford Sound (and I still feel bad about being late - I'm just glad they let him on the later boat), New Zealand's most famous fjord - which I am incapable of giving descriptive justice to. Of course I am a trier: majestic still waters enclosed by verdant mountains, sheer rock faces and waterfalls.Surroundings to give youself perspective.

Next up, I got another lift with some more Brits to Queenstown, to my first giant mega hostel, where busloads of kiwi experiencers are dropped off hourly and I struggled to find anyone over 22, not English or Canadian and who didn't start drinking before 11 am.Given that I had already decided I wasn't going to fling myself upside down from a bridge, off a cliff or out of a plane (sorry Keira - my sense of self preservation prevailed), I made do with celebrating St Patrick's Day in Queenstown, traditionally, with drinking games and a giant green hat. Somehow, the finer details being a little... blurry, I got invited onto a pirate ship (read - barge) on the lake, meeting Nick (a Jack Kerouac meets Bear Grylls type) who invited me to join him camping, thereby removing myself from my life in London almost entirely (you can take the girl out of the city... ).Since camping previously meant mud and music at Glastonbury it was a startling change to camp in dry, sunny weather, waking up next to lakes to the sound of birds, fishing(!) and generally releasing my inner outdoorsy-side. I only got (seriously) lost in the woods once, when I had a Blair Witch type moment, thinking I was going to have to ask one of several campervaners if I could crash until, blessedly, I found the tents.

It was good to get off the tourist track and I reckon I can put up a tent by myself now in under 5 minutes. Nick even entrusted me with some driving (all in all about 700km) - afterwards when I mentioned that I didn't have my actual physical license in my possession, he responded that he hadn't even thought I had a license - surely though, no reflection on my driving ability - thankfully they drive on the right side of the road in New Zealand.

Leaving Nick in Christchurch I ventured back to little England.Christchurch is a piece of Ye Olde England deposited in New Zealand, all the streets seem to be named after English cities and they even have punting on the River Avon.

Not able to find anyone to drive me I succumbed to getting a bus to Kaikoura for a spot swimming with Dolphins. I was hoping to see perhaps 20 when we were surrounded by a pod of 300-400.Incredible, especially as you're trying hard to imitate a dolphin, in freezing water, in a 20mm semi-dry, as the sky thunders around you, with rain so hard, sea so rough and clouds so dark that you don't know which way is up and disorientated you watch these beautiful and curious creatures flit by you as you try to make eye contact and dance. Flirting with dolphins (as instructed, to keep their attention) a brilliant new first.

On the road again, I met up with Nick to continue up North. We went via the Maruia hot springs but were disappointed to find they were closed, supposedly due to them having cooled that day.Naturally suspicious of this explanation and not to be deterred, we snuck in (we only had to scale a smallish barbed wire fence)*. The springs were hot and we only had to share them with the sandflies - it was all good.

Finally we hit Nelson, which according to the Lonely Planet is New Zealand's most 'liveable' city, whatever that means. In a short amount of time I had a quick tour of the city, assisted in decorating a ballroom for an afternoon tea and was cooked a lovely meal by some generous hosts. I was also introduced to a 'cuddle puddle' and a funny Japanese game, like truth or dare but without the truth - all very entertaining. If liveable can be equated with random, good people, craic and cocktails then I'd have to agree with the LP.

For my next stop I wanted to go to Abel Tasman. In Nelson however I was universally urged to travel to Golden Bay instead (just North of Abel Tasman) and submiting to local knowledge I did just that. A good call and a great tip, being as it reminded me of Byron Bay, when Byron Bay used to be good. By perfect coincidence I then met two Americans who offered to take me to Abel Tasman the next day for a bit of tramping. In true American hospitable style Carl made me a genuine peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and together with Bob and Priscilla we had the most perfect walk of my trip at the North end of Abel Tasman, a spectacular National Park passing through forest, several coves and watching seals play in the surf like puppies.

Something in the air though seemed to bring out a little homesickness and I spent an unprecedented few hours phoning home.It was really good to speak to la familia and I have promised myself to make more regular contact with family and friends.

To end my time at Golden Bay I decided to do a sunset horseride on the beach.Possibly overstating my technical ability I put myself down as an 'intermediate rider' and was given a 5 gaited Icelandic horse, a little dynamo called Winner. All was fine and well and we had a good gallop with Christian, the guide and trainer shouting instructions at me (they weren't so bothered about how I held my reins in South America), until Winner tripped, almost fell and I bounced off, somehow landing on both feet at once (must be all the recent practice I've had at falling) much like, I imagine, a swan might fall off a horse. Needless to say, you just have to get back on the saddle and walking back it was a beautiful scene, with the sunset and a seemingly endless beach at low tide. To top the night off perfectly, I got to know my new friend Fraucine, imagine Indiana's girlfriend in raiders of the lost ark, with traveller tales and drinking skills to match - a real inspiration and she makes great cheesecake.

Finally I had a labourious journey with a 5.30am start to make 2 buses and a train to get to Christchurch again, the day before my flight. On Steve's (excellent) recommendation I hit a brilliant bar called Cartel, all outside comfy sofa's, candles and a funky singing duo (a little bit of the S'ditch to remind me of home). Had good chats with Iain along with organic beer to end my time in New Zealand, it's all good and I am still all smiles.

Sweet ay?!

Kerry x

*obviously I would never break and enter into private premises, and in no way am I intending to encourage and / or condone such behaviour, this reference being for entertainment value only ; p