First port of call in the south island was Nelson. I was deeply disappointed, there was no memorial to the great man who was the scourge of the French, no Nelson memorabilia, not even a mini-column. Come on, that's not right. I was most disgruntled. Instead there was rain and plenty of it. This put pay to my plan to go kayaking (canoeing to you and me) and hiking around Abel Tasman National Park (named after some Dutch also-ran) . This was a shame as promo literature everywhere showed golden, sun kissed beaches, dolphins toying with kayakers and seals hopping up onto the stern of kayaks and being fed jammy dodgers or fig rolls or the like (that's probably not a good idea in fairness). Hmmm.
Well, when the rain falls best go to the cinema. Saw 13 dici a tavola (13 At The Table) at the local arts centre and also went on a wine pilgrimage to Malborough Sauvignon Blanc country. How cultured! (In fact it was uncharacteristically a nice day when I went on the wine tour but I had already arranged it so...)
Also befriended a very nice chap called Phil (from Northants) who worked in the local music bar - The Maen Fiddler (yeah yeah, an Irish bar but the choice was limited). Had a very odd evening in there with a bald Scotsman intent on feeding everyone Jura whisky (as that was where he hailed from), an Irish man and Stephano, owner of a local pizzeria (sounds like the start of a joke). It all ended with Phil having to clean puke out of the ladies' loo at 3am (not my doing, I think it was the Azzurri that was to blame).
View of the bay and Abel Tasman National Park in the distance. Oh well, another time perhaps.
Larry the llama sporting the bed-head look. Seemed to be a lot of llamas around. Not sure why.
The fabled Sauvignon Blanc vineyards of Marlborough country (not to be confused with the fags).
A rather delightful lunch on the wine tour. How civilised. It was all designed to highlight and compliment the different flavours of the wine. I just demolished it because I was starving. How uncivilised.
Terrific. An old Bedford truck. Come on the Bedford!
Another old charabanc. NZ is awash with vintage cars, mostly used in anger rather than kept under dust sheets and wheeled out once a year. Not sure what this one was. I'm sure someone can enlighten me...if anyone can be arsed.
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