Have van will travel. Well, that's after you have ironed out all the problems with the one that you are given. A useful tip when you pick up a campervan/motorhome is to stay within shouting distance of the depot in case you need to take it back…..as we found at Queenstown. This particular van will take us from Christchurch to Auckland, so a leaky water tank and defective driver's seatbelt is not the ideal way to start this longish journey. After one night in the van, we return to the depot and after an inspection we are told 'the water tank needs replacing. It'll take two days', That's just not on as we have a schedule so we decide to live with it, it is not too bad but the tank will need filling up every day. The seatbelt is an issue that takes the depot two hours to sort out, a replacement is needed so we are offered a free lunch. Yes, there is such a thing, no catches here, and Mighty Campers should think themselves fortunate that we aren't large eaters as our bill comes to only $ 28. I manage to convince the manageress that even if the van is an older model having done 270,000 kms it should still be safe. She'll look into a refund of sorts. I can feel another e-mail to customer services coming on (the last one about the Queenstown van netted us a $ 200 refund).

So we check in at a motor camp a few km from the depot. We are just about the only 'tourer' there, the place being long term residential. This is the sort of place where women go to the toilet block in dressing gowns and slippers in the morning. Your neighbour has a huge bus sized van, with a dog. Over the back your other neighbour has a small garden and a swing chair. Caravans have semi-permanent awnings to make for a larger living space. At a first glance it is a small town, it is I suppose in a way, as the residents live their lives there. I suspect that more than a few can only put their name to their van, a car and whatever possessions you can fit into both. Are these people earthquake survivors who have lost everything else? The far end of the site is a caravan graveyard, it's too expensive to remove them so they are piled up in a corner. However, the folk are friendly enough and yet again we get an insight into how some New Zealanders live their lives.

Monday 23rd is spent with me firstly delivering Lesley to the hairdresser and secondly our two large bags to DHL at Christchurch Airport for sending home. Both exercises went without a hitch, and we drive northwards with a brief stop in Cheviot for Lesley to say goodbye to the Cheviot practice that she worked at for three weeks in January. Plus a nice coffee stop with Joy and Ira McNab the Cheviot farmers.

Passing through Kaikoura for the third time, we decide to spend the night a bit short of Blenheim on the east coast. The site sounds idyllic, and indeed another half dozen vans and campers think the same. But it is not crowded and we get a spot right overlooking the beach. What a place to wake up in the morning at! Breakfast is full of interest, not because what is on the table, but because of what is offshore - a seal making its way through the waves without a care in the world.

On the Picton to Wellington Ferry we fall into conversation with a gentleman sitting opposite us. We have found that invariably New Zealanders are great talkers, keen to chat to you especially when you are a visitor and with a degree of curiosity on their part as we come from not just the UK but Scotland - as we proudly tell them.

That evening in Wellington we have arranged to meet up with a Hawick GP and his wife who moved to New Zealand six months ago for five years. We had met them at the Wellington induction course last September, specifically in the bank as everybody starting that week got their bank accounts sorted out. Between glances at the widescreen TV in the bar - the Black Caps are playing South Africa in the Cricket World Cup - Alistair and Mhairi tell us how they have got established in their new lives.

Wednesday starts with business to be done in the Wellington library - free but slow internet. Lesley has her NZ tax to sort out, and another couple of phone calls/e-mails to deal with, and I am replying to enquiries about Aspen and Awenasa every couple of days. Yes, these days you can run a holiday letting business from the other side of the world! After Lesley visits her employer's office to hand back the mobile 'phone and leave a box of chocolates from Blenheim, we play for the rest of the day, with a trip up the Wellington Cable Car and a walk in the Botanic Gardens. Nightly stop at Paekakariki about an hour and a half up the west coast from Wellington.

With our west coast trip now sketched out, we can plan a couple of days ahead at a time. Regretfully however, we cannot see everything, and make a hasty visit to Wanganui, spending a worthwhile two dollars each to be transported up an underground elevator to a hill to where, after a climb of 178 steps to the top of a former water tower, and despite a bit of rain and low cloud, it is possible to look down on the town from this viewpoint. On a good day, they say, you can see Mount Ruapehu and Mount Egmont/Taranaki. The CamperMate app comes in useful yet again, and we pitch up on Thursday night at a small site with power only $ 10 per person at Waiinu Beach. Whereas last night the sign on the showers said '4 minutes maximum please', there is no such restriction here….but most folk are sensible about this sort of thing. The next morning Lesley decides to have a look at the beach and slips on the grass, resulting in a bruised foot….luckily we have an ice pack in the freezer compartment.

So far we have not seen the main feature of this trip - Mount Egmont otherwise known as Taranaki. The weather is still cloudy and showery. An inside job it has to be and really the only place you could go is Tawhiti Museum just outside Hawera. The fellow who runs it has spent 30 years modelling historical scenes and many of the full sized models faces are fashioned using masks from actual townspeople. If you love tractors and all things agricultural, this is the place for you to while away a morning. A Disney style ride is ambitious but is excellent at explaining the local history….like all of New Zealand, originating in the Maori settlers in the 1300's then the European settlers of the 1800's with a good few battles between the Maoris themselves for good measure and between the Maori and Pakeha over land occupancy and confiscation.

Cloud or no cloud, we are going to get as high up Taranaki as we possibly can, and this is by road. As we drive up to the top car park, the extraordinary contorted landscape is only partially hidden by thick dense vegetation and trees. Yawning lava chasms and cliff girt mountainsides tell the story of a troubled life of eruptions and destruction, with the earth's sub surface belched out in violent spasms. The mountain is hinting at drawing back its tantalising veil of cloud to reveal not a ghastly contorted monster but, as the eye is drawn upwards, a serene sleeping giant, the master and commander of geological geometry. From far away anyhow.

Appropriately, we spend Friday night at Cape Egmont, with a memorable sunset over the Tasman Sea at the too early time of 7.30pm.