We drove from Dunedin up the east coast and then inland to Twizel. On the way we stopped off at Moerecki Beach where some perfectly spherical boulders litter the beach in a random fashion, as though a giant has been interrupted while playing a game of marbles. Nobody knows how they were formed. We also took the time to visit some Maori rock paintings en route and then found the most deserted lakeside for lunch. There was nobody else for miles - truly tranquil.

After lunch (once we had dragged ourselves away from sunning ourselves in our camping chairs) we went to see some Clay Cliffs which look like something off the moon or the wild west. Apparently they were formed by weather erosion on a fault line. Eventually we ended up at a campsite on the side of a lake at Twizel. This was chosen because Roger thought the town name was pretty cool. It was a big mistake. The setting was undeniably good by the side of a glacial blue lake but the camp was old and very uncomfortable, particularly in the cold mornings and evenings. The facilities were all plain concrete and smelled damp, with plastic shower curtains and all sorts of creepy crawlies - I was not best impressed especially as there were no hair driers!! Maybe I had a lucky escape though, as there were a couple of other places which caught his fancy -"Herbert" and "Knobs Creek".

We got away as quick as we could manage in the morning and headed for Aoraki or Mount Cook. The scenery there was sublime and we set out on a 3 hour round trip walk to the Hooker Lake in temperatures of the mid twenties and under clear blue skies. The walk was quite challenging and you felt that you were really getting to grips with the wilderness. There were several Indiana Jones suspension bridges to traverse and eventually we arrived at the lake where we were surprised to see floating icebergs - very Titanicesque! We had lunch in the most beautiful spot with tremendous views although we are still debating which mountain was Mt Cook (the tallest in Australasia).

In the afternoon, once aching hips, knees and other bits had recovered we called in at Lake Tekapo where there is a lovely little Church of the Good Shepherd perched on the lakeside. We were amused to see a coach pull up with all the curtains closed, only to disgorge a herd of Japanese complete with the most extensive array of cameras, tripods, light meters and general photographic paraphernalia that I have ever seen. Roger felt his masculinity threatened and kept his bog standard Cannon firmly in his pocket, despite all my attempts to reassure him that size isn't important!

The shore was littered with peculiar piles of stones which apparently have no significance but were started randomly, and since then others have felt compelled to add further artistic creations. All rather weird particularly since a little further on was a statue to the noble Border Collie, without whom colonisation of this area would not have been possible. Shep or Lassie (take your pick) looked decidedly sniffy if you ask me. The only other drawback to this statue was that it provoked Roger to force me to submit to a rendition of "Old Shep" all the way to Fairlie. Old Shep is an old Elvis number for those of you under 50!

Tomorrow we are heading for Christchurch to catch a Super 15 rugby match between Canterbury Crusaders and the Kings from Port Elizabeth, South Africa. I haven't yet decided what a suitable pay-off will be - perhaps 80 minutes in a Hong Kong shopping Mall!