Kaikoura

Jordan and I are cruising down highway 1, bumping Disclosure on the iPod adapter and eating wasabi peas.  Our destination: Kaikoura.
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.

All the Way to Christchurch

We decide our next move should be to Christchurch.  We are already tired of relying on buses and the expense of staying in hostels and want to look for our van in Christchurch since they seem to have no shortage available on the backpackers forum.  I am lucky enough to have the contact information of an old friend of my mom's named Aileen; we contact her asking if it's okay for us to stay a couple days.
She says yes and gives us directions to her home in Cass Bay, we pack up and head to the bus stop where we begin the gruelling 7 hour bus ride.  We mostly nap and listen to music while staring out at the beautiful scenery: Mount Cook, Lake Tekapo (where we break for lunch and are immediately accosted by a group of hungry birds, an ongoing theme of our trip.)  We stop for a bathroom break at a random truck stop and just happen to run into Jordan #2 who is also planning to make his way to Christchurch.  We arrive at our destination and take the bus to Lyttelton where Aileen picks us up and takes us for fish and chips and shows us some of the rehabilitation efforts in their community.  The earthquakes have destroyed many historical buildings and the damaged is astounding.

Day 1:
We are lucky enough to join Aileen and some other bay residents on a boat trip to Quail Island.  The weather co-operates and we sprawl out on a picnic blanket and nibble croissants, eggs, chocolate and other delicious goodies Aileen has prepared.  She gives us a tour of the island, a former leprosy colony and Maori mineral site, the views are breathtaking, we see a family of quails.
When we return, her husband Ollie picks us up from the wharf and greets us warmly.  The two of them take us to Sumner Beach, on the way we see more of the devastation caused by the earthquakes.  Million dollar homes have collapsed down cliffs, roads and businesses still lie in ruins.
We are met with Aileen and Ollie's lovely daughters: Lucinda and Vanessa, as well as Vanessa's husband Neo, their baby Arlo and 3 adorable chihuahuas.  We join the whole family for beachside coffee and then all head to Taylor's Mistake, a gorgeous surf beach nestled in the valley.  On our way back, we see a group of guys hanging out by camper vans,
"Let's ask these guys where they go their vans from," Ollie suggests eagerly.
The guys are all French Canadian, I tell them I'm from the island.
"Nanaimo?" an unfamiliar guy guesses.
"Yeah, actually..." I reply, shocked.
They inform us that their van is from the Backpackers Car Market in town.  We all pick up supplies and head to Vanessa and Neo's for a barbecue.  Vanessa looks at TradeMe (NZ's Craigslist) and finds a big yellow van covered in Kiwi stickers, the price: only $2400.

Day 2:
Aileen and Ollie take us to look at vans.  We checkout the Backpackers Car Market, it's a horrible place that looks like a van grave yard and where dreams go to die.  The average van $4000, full of stinky, dirty camping supplies.  None of them have Rego or WOFs (necessities to drive) and they sputter and cough when we try to start them up.
We go to Hagley Park to meet "Chris" and see his Kiwi Van.  The site of it is quite something, but Jordan and I find it charming in a quirky way.  We meet its owner, Chris, a British guy (or "Pom" as Kiwis say) who fancies himself a "wheeler and dealer of camper vans."  He changes his story several times and curses us out when we ask to see the engine, as it requires the bed be moved.
"Bloody Kiwis and Canadians!"
I take it for a test drive and take a deep breath as I remind myself to stay on the left side of the road.  The van seems solid, the owner, not so much.  We tell him we'll consider it.
I offer to cook the family dinner (pasta puttanesca, one of my few Italian specialties.)  Chris sends a barrages of pushy texts to Aileen.  He refuses our low ball offer of $2000.  We tell him we'll get back to him tomorrow.

Day 3:
We decide it best to look at more vans.  Something doesn't quite feel right about the Kiwimobile.  Ollie takes us to look at a van that previously belonged to their friends, the Webbs.  It's been purchased by a mechanic who has replaced the diesel pump and done some other work.  They feel it is the most mechanically sound and it's been overhauled and they know its history, only problem: it's not set up for camping.  We get the guy down to $3250 and Ollie says he can build us a bed.  We're told we have an hour to decide or he's selling it to a couple with a higher offer.  We're not sure whether or not to believe him but we go look at another van belonging to a German guy named Daniel.  It's nicely maintained and has lots of supplies.  We try to talk him down from the $3500 price mark (as the Rego and WOF are about to expire) he won't budge as he has others interested and wants to hear their offers.  We're scared to miss out on both so we make a decision and buy the Webb's van. Getting the money out is a nightmare (damn you $500 daily limit and cash only sellers!) but after a call to our banks (I'm actually terrified to see my phone bill) we get is sorted.  Transferring and insuring our new van (in which we have lovingly named Diesi for Diesel/Kiwi) turns out to be quite easy.  Ollie puts together a bed in no time at all and we spend the night cleaning and vacuuming our new ride.

Day 4:
Here comes the pricy part.  We buy all necessary supplies:
mattress, blankets, pillows, plates, cutlery, cups, gas cooker, water tank, cooler, cookware, knives, cutting boards, so on and so forth, not to mention filling her with gas and buying groceries.  Most of our purchases are from the Warehouse (NZ's version of Target) and are shockingly cheap!  $3 pillows?  Yes please!  Our van is pimped out in no time at all.

Day 5:
The time has come of us to set sail on our adventure.  We plan to head to Kaikoura next and say a heartfelt goodbye to Aileen and Ollie.  We plan to loop around the Northern tip of the South Island and end up back in Christchurch, so we promise to keep in touch.

Words cannot express how thankful I am for the hospitality, kindness and generosity of their entire clan.  They helped us immensely and I will always be grateful and indebted to them.
Thank you Roltons!!!

And on that note, we're off the Kaikoura!  Stay tuned...

Wanaka

We decide to travel to Wanaka, Queenstown's less touristy cousin.
After much hemming and hawing about catching the bus, our flatmate, Michel, informs us that he is planning to rent a car and drive to Wanaka and if we want to join we are more than welcome to.

We gather everything together, manage to fit all our luggage in the tiny Corolla and off we go.  The moment we pull out onto the road I gasp loudly, the whole driving-on-the-left-side-of-the-road thing is really throwing me off.  I've already almost been hit by countless cars when crossing the street, due to looking the wrong way.  On the way we stop for lunch and to watch people hurtle themselves off bridges at the bungee zone.

In Wanaka we check into the "Purple Cow," poor Michel is once again stuck with us girls in a little bungalow (with its own kitchenette no less.)  The weather is on and off, Michel is going on a hike so he drops us off at "Puzzling World," a "must see" tourist sport (or so I'm told.)  Jordan and I pay our $18 and start off in the 3D maze.  The concept seems simple enough: find the 4 towers of blue, green, yellow and red.  We begin our search and pretty quickly we realize this is not going to be an easy task.  Jordan comes up with a theory: maybe if we take all right turns we will eventually find our way.  We begin testing the theory and within 10 minutes we have found blue, then yellow, then red.  Feeling pretty confident we seek out green and find it in no time at all.  An aggressive sign reminds us:
DON'T FORGET: UPON FINDING TOWERS YOU MUST FIND EXIT.
Shouldn't be a problem we think, despite the fact that moments before an American couple argue loudly and storm out of the emergency exit citing the impossibility of ever finding the correct exit.  One hour.  One hour we spend in that maze trying to get out.  We see the exit gate, we know where it was, but none of the paths seem to lead to it.  We scour every corner, over and over again, until finally, exasperated we opt to take the emergency exit for fear Puzzling World will close before we ever make it to the "Illusions Room."

The "Illusions Room" is another frightening experience in itself.  It's cool enough: 3D posters and other trippy sites, not unlike a poor man's Science World.  We enter the infamous tilted room and both immediately feel dizzy and nauseous.  Why anyone would build a room like that is beyond me.  We leave shortly after, desperate for fresh air and on our way back we decide to do the hike Michel had down earlier: Iron Mountain.  The views at the top are incredible.  The sky is divided perfectly with one side grey and foreboding and the other side is nothing but blue.  It's still amazing to me how extreme the weather conditions are here and how quickly it changes.

Back in town and extremely famished, Jordan, Michel and I walk to the super market and load up fajita supplies.  We relax for the rest of the night, I devour Gone Girl.