It would appear that the centre of the mattress was significantly better used than the edges, resulting in a nights sleep that revolved mostly around trying to stay on my side, but repeatedly waking up squashed up against Bob in the chasm of the middle of the bed. Add to that a ladder to the top bunk positioned directly above my head and it was not a much better nights sleep than in the Enema.

The room was freezing when I first woke so I nipped out from the sanctuary of the covers to turn on the fan heater and boil the kettle. I hit my head on the ladder on the way out and the way back in. With the room temperature slowly rising and a mug of steaming tea we were soon up, Bob preparing the luxurious treat of scrambled egg and beans on toast for breakfast whilst I performed sandwich construction. The enema was covered in a heavy frost but we were soon en route with the sun weakly trying to warm us from the cloudless sky.

Our initial intentions were to do the start of the Kepler track, up to Mt. Luxmore, but there was a dull and long walk to start with which we did not fancy so we headed south on the southern scenic highway towards Manapouri where there was a more immediately exciting route described.

What the guides failed to mention was that there was a bridgeless river between the carpark and the start of the route and not fancying the swim or the $100 return ferry we kept driving. Fail.

Frustrated we followed the scenic route South and it soon became apparent why this region was not on the main tourist trail. Endless straight roads, run down, one street 'towns' and other than the jagged skyline of the Fjordland, distinctly average scenery.

After an hour we arrived in Clifden (a sign told us, there was no obvious town centre...naturally). I had read about some FREE limestone caves which we could visit unguided, only requiring 'a sense of adventure...' and we tracked them down to a small hobbit hole in the hillside.

Armed with head torches we entered the darkness and followed the small irregular reflectors into the unknown. The passage was good for 50m except for a slightly slippy, uneven floor, before we came across a seeming dead end. Bob then noticed a small reflective arrow hopefully suggesting that the route continued through a small opening between two huge slabs of rock on the floor. Eager to show how un-phased I was by this I contorted myself down, around and through into the next passage way which bilbo Baggins would have to be bent double to traverse. Through the gap Bob pointed out initial concerns regarding the lack of map, safety equipment or guide but she was soon crouched with me in the burrow. We continued winding our way through the tunnels festooned with stalactites, having to bend, squeeze, duck, waddle, crouch, crawl, stretch, drop and slither around obstacles every few metres.

It felt like a very long 300m and I won't deny I was starting to get a bit twitchy that we were lost, until we reached the swimming pool. Bob remembered this from the faded sign board at the entrance, and it meant that we were nearly at the exit! The small problem was that it was a 12ft round cavern with sheer sides that dropped straight into what appeared to be a bottomless pool. There was no way across, over or around so through would be the only option and that was not going to happen! With much frustration, and calming deep breaths we retraced our steps, willing the sunlight to appear behind each obstacle. Suddenly we both heard a distant noise, and the smell of old spice wafted into range of our highly tuned senses several moments before seeing the lights of some more adventurous potholers. We exchanged niceties and our newfound wisdom before continuing our separate ways. We finally squeezed up through the hold in the floor to see the welcome beam of sunlight from the entrance. An amazing adventure but not for the feint hearted!

We took a while to enjoy being above ground again before heading on, stopping briefly at the disused Clifden suspension bridge and then continuing South, reliving our freestyling caving experience.

The road got no more exciting as we neared the coast, though we did stop for icecream, eventually greeting the sea at Waihoaka, and taking a moment to look out to Antarctica. The sun was still blazing in a cloudless sky but the chill wind stole all of the heat so we remained wrapped up as we swiftly retreated from Gemstone beach.

Next stop was Monkey Island, a beautiful beach with a small cone of greenery in the middle of the bay, which we could scamper out to as it was low tide. We climbed the 20 wooden steps to its summit, whipped by the wind and looked out over the bay. Bob spied a potential campsite but as it was only 4 o'clock we pushed on to find more entertainment. After 3 ghost towns and 4 beaches we found none, so we filled up with water and headed the 20km back to the free camping at Monkey Island, in the hope that Bob's spot was still available.

Passing the wind-sculpted pines for a second time we pulled in to the site and made a bee-line for our private cliff top site overlooking the sun drenched beach. It was perfect!

We parked the enema as a windbreak and sat in our TMNT chairs, reading and surveying the stunning beach below us. Bob was wearing most of her clothes, including wooly socks and flip flops as the wind cancelled all of the sun's efforts. As the light started to suggest that it was evening I went for a run along the beach, followed by a very swift dip in the sea. Invigorated, we cooked a vegetable curry, (me having left the chicken breast in the fridge of the previous accommodation...) which we added the rice to and ate out of the pan as the sun set on the water. Another spirit bay moment with two very happy campers.

A cup of tea and chocolate muffin were essential was we togged up for an Antarctic night in the Enema, and snuggled under the duvet, sleeping bag and blanket, blogging and reading until it was too cold to have hands outside of the covers.