Paradise by the dashboard light

22nd November-28th November

Abel Tasman/ Westport/ Greymouth/ Franz Joesph

Sat waiting for the bus... Again... Kiwi time stranded me on street, sun baking and defrosting my sausages (proper sausage is a limited commodity here) and my weekly veg.

The Stray bus was a new crowd to me but been a pretty constant bus since Auckland. (New girl at school syndrome) however The rocker of a coachman gave me a grand introduction and the great pleasure of standing at the front smiling and waving.... Luckily both those things were achievable at the same time.

The next stop- Abel Tasman (national park extrodianire) way extended the realms of botanical garden explorations previously viewed!

Little white lies may have been told in previous bloggage...of course I am not camping... It was an option... As part of a 3 day hike... However I'm not german.

Instead our lodgings for the next two nights were The Barn. All images of a creaking, windy shack, hay bales etc

Your wrong.
It was a hostel upgrade- premier inn in the bush.Purple duvets and everything (no Lenny though)
AND for the first time in 3 weeks I didn't have anyone on top of me! Appreciating single bed love.

Being out in the forrest and away from civilisation (minus the burger bus and bar next door) it was decided a coach team BBQ (For 27) was the way forward for dinner.

It was safe to say me and the bus driver weren't the best of friends and a kitchen war ensued: he didn't appreciate my salad production line (just get what you want!) So I took control of his meat. Big mistake.Never get between a kiwi and his Meat flipping!

My single bed was plonked next to Swiss Chris (a legend of droll lankyness) and after DMC of sleep talking, hand holding and deep breathing it was okeyd for us to be next to each other and engage in the above.

Activties for the following day compromised of:

1: a four hour trek and water boat adventure
2: a four hour kayak and return trek combination
3: a 3/5 day complete forrest trek with camping
4: paragliding!

Torn between kayaking (Footsteps of aunty Tara) and paragliding; the solid love of a water boat (and trek) won over. The cost worthyness of the rest of the options could be explored as the day went on.

Team trek; French El, (serious double of mini me) Mr like-photo (Irish Attenborough) lady finance (brummie big boss lady) Swiss Chris (legend that is) and I, were both boat buddies and roomies so hardcore bonding was inevitable.

After a short ride crammed into a mini bus (leaving half our team behind... ) we were deposited at the boat....which was attached to a TRACTOR!!! Yes full on farm tractor effort.

Possibly the most bizarre travelling experience of my existence. Bouncing along in a boat on a main road... Kathleen turner/ romancing the stone/ nothing on my hair.

Boat bouncing on the road was fun but chucking in some salty spray and waves into the mix and were talking boat heaven. The (very boring and safety aware) captain took us on a trip around the stunning bay of Abel Tasman: actual beach.crystal blue sea. sun shining. All was happy.

The captain abandoned our tribe on anchorage bay and from there it was a sprightly four hour trek home.
Ten minutes, 10,000 photos later it was evident this could take 10 hours...

This was no saunter around a park, the first 2km were pretty much vertical cliff climbing and from there the only plan was not to die...
The scenery was overwhelming, beautiful and inspiring at every turn of the cliff face.

Team Treks desire to take epic (yet unoriginal) photos resulted in some pretty hairy moments.... fallen tree hurtling down the cliff- straight at us- stopping inches from Mr like- photo. For someone who is notably calm in drama on this occasion I was not... Literally stood frozen.to the spot. Staring death in the face.

Within an hour I was suffering a minor heart attack and practically reduced to tears when Swiss Chris toppled backwards off the cliff edge (team selfie - death worthy photo?) luckily the altitude had give me some wits and the fight response kicked in so he was dragged to safety.

I was the sole focus of Bee love In the national forest with an unnatural attraction of targeting and stalking. Whilst it's understandable they believed me to be queen bee it was later deduced honey shower cream may have a little something to do with the annoyance. (Cheers NJ, just a reminder of your antagonisation from the other side of the world!)

A romantic beach picnic with the team and a seagull split the day and then it was back to the walking.... which doesn't get boring.. Nope... Or tiring...however the views continued to awe inspire,overwhelm and generally be the most spectacularly beautiful place in NZ to date.

A well deserved pint or three followed our safe yet weary return from the day of trekking. And then the most epic burger of my life.... Bigger than my head with a sheep of meat it was so overwhelming half the bun was ditched to ensure the not-needed-but-desperately-desired seasoned wedges were munched.

Mr coach man (who is slowly seeping into my affections) claims this joint is better than the famous ferg burger....only time will tell.

After the adventures of the weekend Monday was a tedious day of travelling....four hour journey stretched to 8, Because the coach driver can (affections quickly slip away).

Luckily accompanied by best coach buddy in the world Mr Antwerp (27, wannabe librarian/ satire king) time passed quickly through educating and entertaining conversation. Mr coachman delved a little bus quiz action... Disappointedly Disney knowledge is somewhat lacking to the kids onboard.

A few scenic stops and a walk past some Sheeps later (first full flock sighting) if NZ is overrun with Sheeps then Sheffield best get culling.
Meant we arrived at the hip and happening town of Westport at 6pm. the sarcasm of this cannot be conveyedin writing so putting it blunt. Westport is w***. Literally dead.

Myself, lady finance and Mr like-photo went for a few light gins (flashbackers) and it we wouldn't be out of place in a western. Deserted. Closed shops.hay bales rolling past.

Chancing on the Irish pub for any craic in town (seriously... Even in no-mans land the Irish always there) we lined the barmans pockets for the evening.

Naturally a few turned into a few more,political And economic debates took place whilst striving to keep a straight face as Glenn the barman raved about the town which is not...

By 1pm wife of Glenn was ringing checking he was alive... Unaccosted by youths of Westport and we were turfed out... joys of dead end places means cheesy chips is not an option.

The slight tipsy stupor reduced our limited sense of direction so a hilarious quadrant of walking around the blocks ensued. For a good hour. Including stopping outside said hostel to gps the location. Confident of my homing bird instinct- Mr like-photo was not. Eventually accepting our idiocy we made it back.

The night ended in style whilst having my pre bed wee; groans and moans of fellow strayers sexing flitted into the toilet cubicle. washing machines are apparently the place to be....It's a classy bus.

If Monday was tedious then Tuesday was painful... Actually painful. After an unneeded 8am set off we drove an hour for a much needed 5 hour wait... In a cafe...in the middle of nowhere. 41 Strayers sat patiently (no joana moaning) for five hours whilst one t*** paid £80 to carve a cow bone... Animosity is not strong enough.

Tuesdays weather further reflected the mood, the rain came down and down and down: luckily as the gin levels were still high this eased the pain of the day.

In an act of redemption, to perk up the bus, coach driver man picked a few choice stops for some Byker Grove style cave photos and some rocks shaped like pancakes....pretty cool and allowed the legs to uncurl.

As the day wore on the weather worsened and so did the mood. Arriving in Franz Joesph we were greeted by a too-old-but-trying-to-be-cool-man whose cheer and team spirit was way to much for our pissed off bus. This dude had organised a Mexican night and a horizontal bungee... Just what people need before a glacier exploration... Tequila!

Two of the kiwi experience buses were also staying and damn did I make the right choice not getting that bus. The bar was overrun with peroxide blondes and Arial red headed, barely legal youths flouting limited attire on jelly bellys....the clothes quickly reduced because there mothers would be so proud of them competing in naked horizontal bungee action.... I lasted ten minutes before heading off to bed... To old for this s***.

Wednesday and the epic plan for an adventure filled day crashed and burned (or more appropriately drowned) the plan being to catch a helicopter (transport options forever improving) to the top of the franz Joesph glacier and then complete an Ice explorer mission with picks and hats and thermals and everything else through ice caves, down the mountain and through the glacier itself.

Sounds awesome, would have been awesome. Rain put a stop to that.
I fell asleep to the sound of rain. I awoke to the sound of rain. Just when you thought it couldn't rain anymore it rained a bit more.... Apparently it's the worst summer in 20 years....typical.

So now deep sea Whaley times and mountain high glacier exploration had been cancelled due to the glorious weather. So we had a spare day in a 'town' designed for everyone to b***** off up the ice not loiter and waste a day. Supermarket. Cafe/ bar. Visitor souvenir shop.done.

Cabin fever kicked in about midday and the only reason we lasted this long was because of $2 upgrade to a cute log cabin, private ensuite, hot tub and SPACE!

The great moari princess of the sky stopped crying for around an hour at lunch. Giving myself, Swiss chris and new bus buddy Ms Samba the chance to walk to the glacier. Seeing it up close and personal further incensed the annoyance at the rain because it just begs to be climbed and explored.

The contrast between Franz Joesph and Abel Tasman scenery is beyond remarkable for a (should be) 2 hour drive they are both equally stunning/ mesmerising but completely incomparable.

Returning to the cabin, a Chinese laundry routine was adopted in attempt to dry all the entire rucksack of clothes. in the rain (did I mention it rained??) Karls first failure (non waterproofing front) was highlighted and everything got soaked. Boo!!

Antheis Fawlty towers action then took place with myself and Mr like- photo receiving an English lesson in grammar and sentence structure from the very foreign Swiss Chris (however don't expect a noticeable improvement in my linguistic style el bloggo).

By 6:30 desperation for alcohol was running high. Getting involved with the unlimited pizza night run by the restaurant/ bar/ hostel was a roaring success as actually the venue was cool, most strayers participated and the Stone baked pizzas were amazing. An efficient system of supply to meet demand was also in place.

A night at the legendary Club FJ ( so named by Irish) led to French El leading the dance floor, me propping the bar and some extremely questionable shots.

So the past week has been quite eventful (but much less so because all activities have been cancelled)

highlights of Abel Tasman
1- team trek - fabulous people
2- log cabins - flashbackers
3- epic scenery - pretty times

Highlights of Franz joesph
1- having a Bathroom not a cubicle (yay naked time)
2- teaching come on Eileen to Europeans
3- looking at a glacier... From a distance ... Epic snow tease!

Thursday today... Another epic day of coach travel ahead...

However signed up to pilot (yes drive in the sky) a stunt plane tomorrow! WHOOOP pray for no rain!

Apologies for ridiculous blog moan
it's over.... Appreciate continued reading...no more moaners

Big loves

S xxxxx

P.s quote of the day:

'Good girls go to heaven bad girls go everywhere' (where does this put me)

mr Antwerp legend of stolen cheese