Chapters Four and Five

Chapter four: "It was cold in the tent, than it started raining and we drank fine wine"

It's about finding comfortable, cheap and fast solutions to our 11 p.m.ish accomodation problem. And, in my modest opinion, that is one thing we've become seriously good at during our road trip. This is one of the first nights out though, and we're still experimenting. We go for the tent solution. Two of us sleep in it outside, and Hansi gets the Chariot. Yeah, no, it's alright I mean. Pretty cold, we'll have to try something else next time.



We wake up on the side of the road with some others 4 or 5 camper-vans parked near to us. We salute the grey morning with a little walk, looking at yellow and red trees. And the road is there again, sliding under our wheels, offering some splattered possums here and there. I'm not kidding, I've never seen so many roadkills in my life.

When we stop in Nelson the clouds bend a bit down starting to pour down rain. The mood isn't at its best. The gods are pissing on us, we're hungry and our kayaking-in-the-sun plan will obviously not work out. I also get to know about something terrible about an earthquake in Italy, without having any details. I try to contact some people via sms, and after I've done that I know there isn't much else I can do. It may sound a little cynical and little unsensitive, but the distance shapes thick, invisible walls to alterate the perception of tragedies. I don't really realize anything as I should, not even the most tragic event.

Everything seems as black as the sky, but sometimes a breakfast in a seriously cool pub can save your day. We get some information about cool winetours in the area, we do find a hostel, and half an hour later there we are, sitting on a small bus driven by an oldish kiwi lady with a new-married australian couple, a Hamilton-couple and two irish ladies with a little girl. The tasting is fascinating, it's a mixture of constant laughter and increasing of blended flavors and alcohol in the mouth. The tastings happen through the ironic and mocking smiles and laughs of the kids, and that's alright, it actually makes the tour. (Punktum)



We get fooled into buying a red Montepulciano - pretty good really - by a really fun farmer that pulls out some stories about rubies and wives forgiving husbands. In and out of the bus, starting to get quite tipsy, and a brewery is our last stop. By this time we've become friends with all the people on the tour, especially with Nick and Lisa, the australian couple.



Back to the hostel and out in town again. We walk to "our" pub (simply the one cool we ate breakfast at) to have dinner there. And hey, Mac's red is the choice. And heey, Nick and Lisa enter the pub. We sit there talking their jobs, and about ...stuff, 'til they have to go. We reckon it's time for us too to drag our arses back to the hostel. It's gonna be a long day tomorrow.

Chapter five, "This place looks like eden and oh making tacos in a camping kitchen is such a great idea"

The currents in the water are too strong, we are too late, they are too expensive. Basically, no kayak today, my love has gone away. Instead, we drive up to the beginning of the Abel Tasman National Park. And wow, do you remember what I wrote about Eden falling down and such stuff? Well I was wrong, this is actually Eden. The words can only drag you into the feeling of warm air on the skin, of sea perfume and of bird songs and fall sounds in the air. Your eyes and imagination will have to do the rest.








We walk through a path that takes us to some quiet beaches where the colors seem to dance with each other, blending within the canvas without ever disappearing. Jesper trains for his future job as a circus acrobat, and we all sneak into holes in the rocks and jump around.






Yes, we get pretty obsessed with the incredibly cool rock over there. As we play around the bushes and the shells and the grains of sand and everything observe us silently, probably smiling inside. About five minuets away from the car it starts raining. We're so soaked it's not funny, but still, we laugh.


The rain, of course, stops as soon as we've reached a roof under which we can hide. Well well, as I said before I really am found of this weather's sense of humor.



A few hours later we're still driving southwards. Our goal is to reach Westport tonight, and possibly have something to eat. The landscapes slide through the windows, and there they are, the most important altough silent and discrete beautis of this trip. Everything outside. Clouds, sky and earth, flowing in the opposite direction of our dear Chariot, hitting the eyes 'til they're filled with too much beauty.




In Westport we find an ok camping, and we get ready to make dinner. Jesper and I smartly suggest "Taco!!" as the main course. Now that is smart and easy to make in the kitchen if a camping with no frying pan and almost no utensilens. Considering the circumstances I'd dare to say we actyally did pretty well. Than it's bedtime. A quick look at the bible deposited in the recycling case (have a look at Jesper's blog for further information), and goodbye pork pie. Tomorro we are gonna walk on pancakes of rock, and do car-slalom between lakes!