After the city of Dunedin, and all it's unparalled beauty, I mean, plainess, I was quite excited to travel to Aoraki, or Mt. Cook. It's, as you know/guess the highest point in NZ, and the cool thing about it is that you can drive nearly to the top. But that does take away a massive amount of "impressiveness" that say, a Mt. Fuji has (or one of those "cone" ones).
I got there late in the day, and light rain started hitting my windshield as I had been passing the lake that I can best describe as "the color of my Alfa Romeo that Aki totalled." The official name for that paint was "sea-foam green." It was beautiful. The car. And, well so was the lake.
So my main concern was: get a spot sheltered
underneath a tree, you know, the whole rain thing. Wind was not an issue.
And then it got dark.
And the skies cleared up, to reveal glorious constellations that I know none of, and the wind picked up. Something fierce. The whole
underneath thing should have been
behind. I couldn't change my location in the dark &wind anyhow at this point, so I decided to try to make out the night. For anyone who camped at Leon's birthday, it was stronger than that.
All night, I kept worrying the tent was going to come undone in the ground, and I'd be left with no fly. The fly kept whipping hard against the tent, and I never slept. I got out at about 2 am and checked the pegs in the ground, and they were fine.
And then at about 6 am it happened, like a 600 pund sumo wrestler charging into my tent from no-where, 2 of my 3 poles
snapped. I heard them go, and then a wrip, as one of the poles tore the nylon. I was f-u-c-k-e-d. I had to push all my weight agianst the wind, and tried to put my pants on when it subsided enough.
I got out as soon as it began to show light, and packed it up quickly/poorly. I hopped into my car and drove to the mountain view point walk, and was the only one to see the mountain top luminate 1st thing in the morning. I sat enjoyed it, until the sun hit me, and I went down to the car and made coffee and grilled cheese for breakfast. When all the tourist buses started showing, the clouds rolled in, and hid what I saw while they were still sleeping.
I was rewarded.
I drove an exhausting, and often un-interesting drive to Banks peninsula, which was formed duirng 2 volcanoe explosions. The ruggedness of the steep slopes reminded me of the shape of Fiji. Not as warm though. I found a remote beach, and when the sun set, the clouds over the bay had a softenss to them that reminded me of Bob Ross, the whole scene was his. And over there was a "happy little tree." I had supper, finished my Maurice Gee book (it was choice) and went fast asleep in my car as soon as it was dark.
And then I came into Christchurch today, which is having it's International Buskers Festival.
It's pretty cool, seeing some of the acts. I think I'll only be here 1 night, and head to Hanmer Springs tomorrow. It's strange being in a city after I've adjusted to the sticks. I always said I'm a city boy, but camping has made me re-think that idea. I suppose I'm still city though, until I wrestle and defeat the bushwackers. Then...
Some stuff:
Bob Ross. Watch him do his magic.