Driving on the left side feels surprisingly natural. Sitting on the right side helps and after the initial moments of constantly reminding yourself "stay left, stay left," it's just like driving in Canada, only exactly opposite.
We arrive at the Kaikoura coast and are astonished by the views. Brilliant blue waters crash onto jagged rocks along the windy coast and we feel we made the right choice in coming here. We explore the town and stop at a cafe for our daily dose of caffeine (and to use their wifi.) While we're sitting on the patio, sipping cappuccinos I see a familiar face. I squint towards it and my mouth drop, it's Michele! He is returning to his hostel after a walk and joins us. We all remark on what a 'small world' it is and catch up on our activities. Michele is headed to Auckland tomorrow and then home to Switzerland. We exchange farewells and Jordan and I spot a liquor store. We decide to celebrate out new adventure and first night of freedom camping by indulging in a few beers. We hit the liquor store and seek out a place to camp. At this point, we still believe that its "legal" to freedom camp anywhere we want (we would later find out that this is not at all the case) so we start searching for a spot free of any "No Camping" signs.
We see a campground on the coast that seems happening, but when we pull in its this weird makeshift trailer tent shanty town. A sign says something about payment. No way are we paying to camp!
We continue down the highway on the outskirts of town. We find a pullout on the beach with a picnic table and its void of the "No Camping" signs. Perfect!
We start setting up and suddenly Jordan remarks, "Is that a seal?"
Sure enough there he is only a couple meters away from us, curled up on a rock.
"Do you think he's... dying?" we both wonder. He's unmoving and totally alone, he also seems completely unaware of us. I get closer and he looks at me lazily and twitches his whiskers.
"He's definitely alive."
He rolls over and repositions himself under the warm afternoon sunlight. Nope, not dead, just extremely lazy.
We try to set up our gas cooker, but it is without instructions and the burner won't light. Great. Looks like its sandwiches again. We drink our cleverly named "John Lemons" - malt liquor and lemon beverages and begin an intense game of Crazy 8 Countdown. An Asian family stops to admire the seal and at some point the seals flops back into the water and swims away without us realizing. We're disappointed to have missed his departure. We drink into the night and begin an impromptu dance party on top of the picnic table. I spill an entire beer all over the van. We pass out quickly.
In the morning there are now two sleepy seals. We struggle to compose ourselves and re-organize the van. Jordan is a wreck: her allergies have her sneezing and sniffling and her eyes are itchy, she even has a couple hives. We drive into town in search of allergy medicine and supplies. I YouTube instructions on how to use the stove. We're convinced we have it figured out. It starts to gently rain so we head to South Bay and make lunch under the protection of the great twisted trees. Once again, our cooker fails to ignite. It's sandwiches again. All I can hear in my head is that Fred Penner song:
Sandwiches are beautiful, sandwiches are fine, I like sandwiches I eat them all the time...
We sleep on a different beach, but equally as beautiful.
The next morning Jordan is up before me and sitting outside reading her book. I'm lying in bed willing myself to get up when I hear the voice of an unfamiliar woman:
"Good morning. Do you want to go on a boat?"
"Um, yeah! Sure! Can I change first?"
"Of course, take your time."
Jordan reappears in the van.
"Did someone invite you to go boating?" I ask her.
"Yeah. Do you wanna go?"
"Yes!"
We quickly dress and run out to the beach. An older man on a tractor is backing a steel fishing boat into the water. He hollers 'good morning' at us and we climb aboard.
We are introduced to the woman, Rose, from Hawaii and a man with her, Graeme, who is a Kiwi. The older man pushes us out and climbs on. He is named Gary and does chartered fishing trips. They take us out to check on their crayfish traps. I've never actually seen a crayfish and its a hideous creature. They kind of look like lobsters but with more pinchers, they're really bumpy and colours of purple and green. We watch in amazement as they empty the traps, measure the crayfish and clip their tales. We admit we've never eaten crayfish before and Gary insists we try one.
"Follow us, we have a few cooked ones from last night. They're delicious!"
Back on shore we follow them down the street and they present us with two huge frozen crayfish and tell us to simply thaw them out, crack them in half and enjoy. We can't thank them enough and desperately wish we had something (a gift, knickknack, anything!) to give back to them.
We warm up the crayfish and enjoy them with garlic butter; its easily the best meal we've had this entire trip.
Gary has recommended a camping spot called Marfel's Beach. It's a small government campsite right on the water and totally off the grid. It's $6 a person, but we gladly pay the money and spend sometime exploring the area.
Next, we're off the Nelson.
No comments:
Post a Comment