Through Middle Earth

If we're going to follow this analogy, then I suppose we were a Fellowship of the Ring of sorts (hark back to both Paul and Kat's wedding ring losses in Brazil and the ensuing Lord of the Rings references). Anyway, we set off in our exciting new mobile home to explore Middle Earth. Later Paul even downloaded the LOTR soundtrack so we could appreciate the landscape to full effect.

That first day it took us quite a while to get out of Christchurch – we still had longterm travel-ish errands to run, and then got sucked in by the supermarket and the joy of having store-cupboards for a significant length of time. Oh the thrills of cooking! Anyway it was raining, so we probably weren't missing much. Kat was a little shocked that we had no plan whatsoever, and so did a bit of internet research for us. Otherwise we got in the van and drove with no idea where we'd stop. Soon became time for dinner, though, so I picked a place on the map Kat had heard of through her research, and we headed for it. Peel Forest. Turned out to be pretty nice, and we found a pretty little campsite to spend our first ever night in a campervan.

The whole setting the beds up part was a bit of a palaver – Kat got to sleep on this shelf by the roof that was a puzzle to get onto. But it was better than setting up a tent every night! And the next day the sun came out, we went for a walk in the hills, and then sat on our camp chairs in the sunshine with our tinned spaghetti.

After that we headed off again, towards Oamaru – a town that boasts penguins. I think penguins are among the coolest creatures on the planet, and was particularly excited about the prospect of seeing one in the wild. But when we got there, we learnt that penguins can only be spotted when going home for the evening, and these guys charged you quite a lot for the privilege. Nevermind. We watched a seal for a bit, and admired the amazing turquoise colour of the sea. Then stopped off at this place which boasted NZ's only malt whisky. I had a chat with the British guy who worked there, and a bit of a taste. It was good, but not peaty enough for my liking. I would imagine buying a bottle would be pretty expensive – the still isn't in production any more.

Our camp for the night was to be in a holiday park a bit further down the coast in Moeraki. When we arrived we swore we'd try a bit of 'freedom camping' as it's known (rough camping) next. Why pay crazy camping prices when we'd already paid for accommodation by hiring a van? No sooner had we established ourselves at a hook-up, than Kat ran up saying that if we wanted to see penguins, we had to leave now. Turns out there was a colony just up the road and if we hurried we might catch the end of their going home time. We rushed as fast as we could, though manoeuvring the van along rough and winding gravel roads wasn't conducive to speed. We reached a lighthouse and parked, hurrying down a steep path where we could already hear the calls of nesting penguins. I was worried we were going to be too late. We arrived at this little bird-watching hide with handy binoculars and a view down to a small sheltered beach. There they were – two late stragglers plodding quietly across the beach. You could almost imagine them with briefcases, returning to their wives. We just caught them as they disappeared out of sight, then spotted a third waddling along a path higher up. It must have been spectacular to see them all come in at once. But we were the only people there, so it was likely we missed the show. Still, no guided tour for us! Just us and actual penguins in the wild. Well done Kat.

The next morning was more sunshine – hurrah! We had a walk along the beach, and then set off towards our next destination – Dunedin. On the way we passed a cheese factory where a simple tasting turned into an unintended purchase. It was there we learned of the Kiwi disdain for freedom campers. They do not appreciate foreigners just parking up where they like without paying, especially if they don't have onboard toilets. Apparently using nature's cubicle pollutes the groundwater. Suddenly things were seeming much free-er in Scotland! Nonetheless, we still hoped to find a secluded picnic site with its own toilets to camp at – we'd seen quite a few already so didn't think it would be too difficult.

So next was Dunedin – the Edinburgh of the Southern hemisphere, and coincidentally nearly the farthest from home we'd be on the trip, at very nearly our official halfway point. So it wasn't really very much like Edinburgh at all – although it did have a lot of the same street names and a statue of Burns.

It took most of the rest of the day (it seemed) to escape Dunedin's sprawling metropolis and by the time we were on the road again it was coming on 5. We were dead keen to find a side-of-the-road camping spot, so we pressed along the coast. Eventually the road took us away from the sea and inland. In fact, it soon turned into a gravel track and we had serious concerns about where it was going to spit us out again. But at least it was still sunny, and everything looked a bit like the Shire. The road went on and on without sign of joining any useful main road. But happily the gravel did eventually give way to tarmac and we appeared back on the map again. But time was ticking on and there was still no sign of an appropriate stop. Yes, there were lots of holiday parks, but we wanted something free, damnit!

After a long fruitless hunt we caved and had a look at a holiday park – but I wasn't impressed by it and was still optimistic we could find what we were looking for. We still had plenty of daylight left. The road took us through some of the most spectacular scenery we'd seen so far. The appropriate Lord of the Rings soundtrack came on. It was at about the point in the first film where the hobbits are fleeing the black riders, when we looked behind and saw 3 or 4 sinister black-clad bikers following us. Quite appropriate! But still there was no campsite, and Kat was getting a bit grumpy. We checked out another couple of places but they were no good. Then we reached Alexandra, much further than we'd ever intended to drive that day, and decided enough was enough. We enquired in town about the nearest motor camp and pitched up at about 9pm. Then we had a much needed dinner with cheese and wine for afters.

Next day a teenage boy tried to steal Paul's clothes while he was in the shower – that about sums it up for that place! Kat went for a morning to herself, and Paul and I went on one of these irritating internet hunts we're becoming so familiar with. We'd maxed out our credit card and needed to pay it off. It was also the day we were due to meet my cousin Briony and her girlfriend Karina (also on a round the world trip in the other direction), so we needed to see if we had a message from them. The search was frustrating and boring, so I won't talk about it. More fun was that the town was overlooked by a giant clock on the hillside. We decided to walk up to it, for want of anything else to do. It was quite cool, but more cool was that while we were up there we discovered that the whole hillside was covered in thyme. (Time? I hear you say. How appropriate for a clock hill.) So we picked wild mountain thyme (all among the blooming heather). Pretty good, actually, as buying fresh herbs in the supermarket is expensive and it's not very practical to get dried if you only want a little bit. Free flavour for your food is not to be sniffed at, as I'd already discovered stealing sachets of salt and pepper from our aeroplane meals and restaurants.

We met Kat again and headed onwards towards Queenstown to see if we could find Briony and Karina. I had great hopes for our liaison with them. They'd been campervanned-up in NZ about a week and a half longer than us, and I hoped they'd teach us the ways of freedom camping. But when we finally managed to speak to them on the phone and meet, they felt smelly from days without a shower, and craved a proper campsite. And as it happened a leaflet for one at a good price for the area had been slipped under all our wipers. It was about 2 mins from where we were parked and what's more, had free internet. We were sold. The showers weren't bad either. That evening we passed on the greatness that is Dan's Game. It's come a long way with us, and we've passed it on at every opportunity. I hope you're reading this, South African guys! We also introduced everyone to stovies (mashed potato with onions and corned beef). Beauty in its simplicity.

The next day was the 16th of January – our official halfway point and designated party day. We were also going to have our first go at freedom camping, with Briony and Karina as our tutors. I'd got over my fear of nature's cubicle (although Kat didn't seem to yet, so we were still ideally looking for official toilets). We took a drive up to Glenorchy which was breathtakingly stunning of course – the whole area around Queenstown is amazing. I think parts of LOTR was shot there. Anyway, we went for a bit of a walk (can't spend all our time driving), but the chosen campsite (with BBQ – this was very important for the party) had a big sign saying 'NO FREEDOM CAMPING.' Scoundrels! No matter, we decided it would be more fun to build a fire and cook on it, and, well, we'd go without proper toilets. Damnit, if we were going to break the rules we were going to do it properly.

We headed back down the road towards Queenstown and very quickly the B&K wagon turned off and trundled down a little hidden road I would have otherwise missed. At the end was a little hidden gravel carpark by a beach on the lake. There was another car there – a guy fishing and a girl sunbathing topless. But we had no qualms about hanging out there too until they left. They didn't look like they were planning to camp there.

So we settled ourselves down on the edge of this beautiful turquoise lake, noticing sunburns crop up from the walk earlier. B&K had a go at swimming, but it was pretty cold. It was all very nice until those bastard sandflies appeared. They're merciless, and if you brush them off you bleed. My feet look diseased from their bites, especially as I can't stop myself from indulging in a scratch or hundred. As dinner time approached, the fire committee got started. Pretty impressively – only two matches and no kindling except what nature provided. We improvised a BBQ with the grid from our grill-pan (not very big, but the joy of a BBQ is in its spread-out nature. 1 peace of meat at a time). B&K had bought pre-cooked sausages and marinaded beef steaks. We'd got some lamb and marinaded it in some orange peel donated by the girls, a salad dressing we had, some garlic, and some of the foraged thyme. Pretty good actually. That and a box of wine, some rolls, salad, yoghurt and cucumber dressing, and some corn on the cobs, we had ourselves a fantastic halfway party! When it got dark it also felt appropriate to play some fiddle tunes and toast some marshmallows.

I'd been nervous about being caught by the authorities and moved on, but no-one came. It was the perfect crime. Next morning was sunny, so I put on a brave face and a bikini, and had a wash in the lake. The water was so crystal and perfect and inviting. And yay, I'd conquered my fear of nature's cubicle! B&K were moving on, so we said goodbye – it was great that we could cross paths on our respective round the world adventures. They're given us some tips about our next destination, the Fiordland National Park, and this wonderful thing called a DOC campsite.

These were essentially exactly what we'd been looking for all along – a designated picnic area with toilets and sometimes BBQs where you were allowed to camp for a much smaller fee than at a holiday park. No fancy things like RV hook-ups, kitchens or showers. Just basic camping like what we'd been looking for, but legal. Some really basic sites were even free. They were out in nature – not glorified carparks like most of the holiday parks, and you could pick up a nice little map with them all marked on from any i-site (tourist info). An epiphany. Thanks guys!

In Fiordland we found a beautiful campsite by a lake. It was all picture perfect (apart from the sandflies). Next to us an army of people turned up, and Kat listened in on them for a while (as you do) and thought they were speaking German. Then she realised that the reason she understood some of the words they used was because they were actually Brazilian – from Sao Paulo, she guessed. Later on she got some courage and went and spoke to them. Well, told them to keep their voices down because people were sleeping (in Portuguese), at any rate. They were very embarrassed about this for the following reason: they'd spent a lot of the evening talking about Kat and trying to persuade some of their menfolk to go and hit on her. And she'd heard all this and understood. Just their luck that of all the people they'd chosen to camp next to and make lewd comments about, it was someone who also happened to live in Brazil. What are the chances? They were actually from Sao Paulo as well, as it turned out.

The next day (I'm so sick of writing 'the next day', but I can't think of another way to say it. Suggestions below, please!) it was back on the rain again, which was unfortunate as we'd planned a summit walk. It was pretty in the cloud at any rate. And as we approached Milford Sound the whole place started to look like the Misty Mountains. (I expect if you're reading this and not interested in Lord of the Rings, my references may be a bit annoying. Well tough.. Since the films NZ has become Middle Earth, and you don't need to be any shape of geek to appreciate that!) Milford Sound is another of these spectacular places NZ has a lot of. It was also inhabited by silly little kea birds which would pose for the tourists and beg food even though no-one was meant to feed them.

We stayed in Fiordland another night at another of the pretty DOC sites. We went on walks and admired some amazing moss, before heading back towards Queenstown. It was at around 4 o'clock on the final stretch of road before Queenstown when Paul lurched us round a particularly crazy corner, we heard a weird noise, and Kat shouted, 'stop now! Pull over immediately, the back window's smashed.' Nightmare! All of a sudden it didn't feel so happy and sunny any more. We'd got ourselves into the habit of not putting the table away when we moved on, and it was an accident waiting to happen. It swung a bit as we moved, and this time it had swung its way straight through one of the big windows at the back. The whole thing was in tiny pieces all over the road and the back seat. It was a pretty shitty thing to have happened, but we all breathed a sigh of relief at having taken out the excess on the insurance.

Paul drove even faster to get back to Queenstown, taking corners at an even more stomach-curdling rate. We felt like we were in pieces and falling apart all over the road. But it was imperative that we got to town before close of business. We didn't know if things would work out or not.

It seemed like a day and a year before we actually reached Queenstown and asked about a repair-man. There were two, both in the same industrial park. Paul phoned the rental company – he must have been feeling pretty crap. The first repair guys we found sucked the air through their teeth and said it would take 3 days to order in a new window. But the rental people said to go to the other repair shop who did all their work for them. They were a friendly bunch, who had a window for us there and said they would have it replaced within the hour, and we could pick it up 2 hours later (to give it time to rest or something). And as luck would have it, the motor park (same as before) was 2 mins walk down the road. So we scooped up our cooking things and went to make some dinner.

It actually went strangely smoothly, and the guys had cleaned up the van for us too (it was starting to look a bit dirty). We were barely inconvenienced by the whole affair at all. The next day we had made plans to visit the glaciers further north, but then we had our own Breaking of the Fellowship moment – Kat had decided to go her separate way. It was sad, and weird as we hadn't foreseen it and thought our little party of 3 would always be the way in the camper. But she had other plans. (Not sure which of us was Frodo in this circumstance – I have a feeling Paul and I were probably Merry and Pippin.) So anyway, when it all came down to it, it was much later than anticipated that we left Queenstown and we had a long way to go if we were to reach the campsite we'd planned for.

The drive was pretty nice, and the landscape continued to change as we moved towards the west coast and away from the mountains. We had noble plans of building another fire and BBQing some chicken we'd bought, but 9pm came and went, and we still hadn't found our campsite (it was important to stay at that particular one as it was one of the few in the area that allowed fires). It was dark when we found our place, and it had been our most epic drive yet. Suffice it to say, we did not fancy building a fire. We improvised some rice and beetroot with a tiny bit of chicken instead.

Glaciers were next on the menu, but as we left the site, something that had bothered us the night before but was left ignored, crept up to bite us. The clutch, it seemed, was no more. So for the second time in however many days, Paul was on the phone to the rental company with yet another repair job. It was frustrating that our plans once again looked scuppered, but there wasn't much else we could do. We sat and waited for the mechanic to come, and then he loaded the whole van onto the back of his tow-truck and gave us a ride to Fox Glacier, where we'd been planning to go. At first the idea had been that he would take our van away, and the company would send another one over from Christchurch (taking about 6 hours). That wasn't too bad – we'd be able to amuse ourselves for the day just about. Perhaps no BBQ once again though. Then we discovered that there were no drivers available until the next morning, and the soonest we could get a new van was 11am. The good news was that they would pay for us to stay in a holiday park over night.

So actually, it was pretty convenient for us after all. The guy dropped us at the holiday park (and we were excited that we were getting a free night's accommodation, although we subsequently forgot to claim it back off them) – we got our BBQ and a shower which was much needed. Then the next morning a whole new van appeared complete with full tank of fuel and fresh supplies of matches and washing up liquid (which we were running out of). Breaking down has never seemed so convenient! In the meantime we went and visited Fox Glacier, which was one of our epic walks, and nice to look at. The following day we went to Franz Josef Glacier, which was different again, and interesting because it had both receded and grown dramatically in its recorded history.

Since we'd already had a crazy long drive, our next campsite wasn't at too ambitious a distance away. We hoped we'd arrive in good time to have a nice sunny evening. We did get lost looking for it, though, and it wasn't as early as we'd hoped. Nevermind. It was in the heart of goldmining country and if we'd so desired we could have panned for gold in the creek. We didn't fancy it, though, and instead spent an evening playing some tunes outside the van, much to the joy of the other campers.

From now on it was just a matter of heading back to Christchurch, so we were taking it slowly. No big distances. We did a nice short walk, then crossed the Lewis Pass (an impressive sight, even in the rain) and walked a bit along St. James Walkway. Then we found the first of our genuinely free campsites (some we'd just chosen not to pay at since no-one came collecting). This was a little area next to a stream with a toilet in and lots of sandflies. Free is best! We'd promised ourselves a real campsite with showers and everything next – because it had been a few days and we feared our smell. But when we arrived at Kaikoura, and had another boring internet hunt, we were unmoved by the place or the prices of the holiday parks. It was back to glorified carparks and we wanted the secluded countryside of the DOC! So though it was well into the afternoon, we pushed for our last DOC site (also a free one) which was towards Christchurch.

It wasn't easy to find, and we did spend a long time on a steep gravel road. But it was a gorgeous day, and we were heading through beautiful forestry commission land. The gravel road wound on and on (as they are wont to do), and we thought the free campsite was a hoax. We thought, surely no-one else comes this far out of the way just to save a few dollars. But we were there, and there was another van and a couple of tents there already. Paul very quickly introduced us to the campers – 3 Bruce siblings (there had originally been 5, but some had gone home), Alison, Dan and Linda. They were responsible, or had at any rate got caught in, some huge trenches which blocked our path to the other half of the site. We were careful not to drive the van any further lest we got stuck too!

The owner of the other van didn't seem to be around, but we had found some new friends to spend our last 2 camping nights with. That evening we gathered in their tent and they too learned to play Dan's Game. It'll be a worldwide phenomenon soon! The following evening was Burns Night, and though we hadn't found a haggis (even in NZ!), it was still very exciting to have some people to share it with. Next day we all made a packed lunch and embarked on a hike up the mountain. Then we discovered why it was a free campsite (apart from the very disgusting and nearly full pit toilet). The whole place was entirely crawling with wasps. And this is no exaggeration. I can't even begin to describe how many wasps there were, and anyone who knows me from my youth can imagine what a nightmare this was for me. The reason was this fungus which grew on the bark of the beech trees (which smelled of mead). The wasps loved it. There was also a huge number of beehives around the place, and the wasps hung about them in gangs taking down bees left, right, and centre. It was like a tremendous battle between wasp and bee, where the bee had no hope of winning because the wasp's weapon was inexhaustible. It was definitely a 'covered in bees!' moment. It was all so sinister.

Ignoring that (and you could while you were constantly moving – less easy when you stopped and they hummed round you. The whole forest hummed with the sound of them), we had a great walk with amazing views, and a really good time with our new friends. It went on a bit longer than we'd expected, and were desperate for a jump in the stream when we got back. It was a case of half-stripping and diving in at the ford, and it felt so good, even though the sun had gone away. But the wasps hummed around the banks, hunting the bees that had got stranded there.

We met the inhabitant of the other campervan – a German guy called Michael who gave us a mug of something Dan dubbed 'pirate tea'. It was an amazing concoction – tea, lots of whisky, and honey. Michael was hilariously drunk, having stepped on a bee in the morning and spent all day drinking in his van to get over it. We invited him to Burns Night too, but was out like a light when it came time to address the haggis. Paul did a sterling job addressing the sausages, and we gathered round the big tent to enjoy our respective meals (in a beautiful cloud of sandflies). The wasps had gone to bed – and this was a relief. A new neighbour had appeared, and she was invited to the party too. We spent the evening drinking and singing songs and doing a bit of poetry here and there. Paul also reeled off a great Tam O' Shanter, and the Kiwis sang some Maori songs. Michael told us about growing up in East Germany, and how weird the fall of the Berlin wall was to a 9-y-old. One day his teacher was telling him one thing, the next she was telling them that everything she had said before was a lie, and that now she was telling the truth.

The next morning it was time to leave and return the van to Christchurch. The sinister hum in the forest was louder than ever, and the wasps were swarming even more than the day before. I had tried to be brave (honestly, I had!) - but it was all too much. Like a coward I hid in the van while Paul was social for the two of us. It was a relief to leave the buzzing hell, but we knew we had definitely made the right decision in ditching Kaikoura in favour of it. We had a really great time with the Bruces, and it was a lovely place to camp all other horrors aside (Paul also managed to fall in the trench – well done!). We drove back to Christchurch really sad to be leaving our camping days behind us! But thanks to JD in Singapore we had a free car to pick up, so the cushy life continued. We both definitely want to do more camping in future, and are keener than ever to get our own van. We can even handle rough camping now (and the longest we'd ever been without a shower) – so hurrah!

Fiji Time

OK, so the background here. We'd never planned to come to Fiji but when we booked our flights, our travel agent pointed out that we'd neet to transit in Fiji on the way between Honolulu and New Zealand so why not spend a couple of days there? We agreed and thus took three days off Hawai'i and made them into Fiji days. Because we'd never planned to go to Fiji we'd done even less research than usual "i.e. none" and had no idea what to expect. We had found what looked like some lovely Couchsurfers, Fi and Api who lived in a "traditional Fijian village" and Api was also a musician. Luckily they accepted us to stay so we had a bit of an unexpected adventure to come.

The airline we were travelling with was "Pacific Airlines", Fiji's flag carrier which markets itself as "The World's Friendliest Airline" which was no exaggeration. The cabin crew smiled their way through the safety briefing and continued to smile the nine hour flight (with a brief stop in Samoa). Each time we landed they had profound, welcoming phrases like "...we welcome you as brothers and sisters to our homeland..." it was really funny. At the airport we were met by Jit, a taxi driver set up by Fi. It was odd to be driving on the left side of the road again and also funny to se that all the road signs were very similar to those in the UK (as Fiji was a British colony). I particularly liked that as I'd been feeling pretty homesick. Fi met us at the house in Viseisei Village with a big hug and explained how the village works. The land is communal and people tend to build their own houses - they don't pay rent or anything so all they need to pay for is their electricity and water. No heating is required as Fiji is pretty near to the equator. The houses are basically painted brick walls with corregated iron over the top. Fiji is a really interesting ethnic mix as it's roughly 50 % native Fijians (formally famous for being cannibals but now mostly methodist) and 50 % indians who are the descendants of the workers brought over by the British. There is are small white and arabic populations as well. This has led to racial tensions over the years (since independance in the 70s) but Fi assured us that it's all OK now. We spent ages chatting away with Fi and her neice Una (staying with Fi and Api t the time) about Fiji and trying to get our heads together - we were a wee bit jet-lagged and confused having crossed the date line and also in a bit of a culture shock. Like many places we'd been recently it was raining and when it rains in Fiji it really RAINS. It was like someone pouring an endless bucket of water over the village which made an incredible noise on the iron roof. Fi made us an amazing chicken curry and we eventually crashed out. Fi herself stayed up for a large part of the night filling small paper bags with kava which she sells to the villagers. In fact, Fi and Api make a wee bit of money from they things they sell and when we arrived a batch of tamarind jam was being jarred up. We got to try a bit and it was pretty good.

They next day was Sunday and as the villagers are all religious, it was assigned as a day of church and little else. We were keen to go as the service was likely to be a really different experience. Preparing for it was a bit like being in an episode of "The World's Strictest Parents". Charlotte had to wear a skirt that didn't show so much leg and make sure her shoulders were covered as well. I also had to wear a skirt - the formal dress for men is called a sulu vakataga which is a bit longer than a kilt. Api leant me one of his so I could look acceptable. It was also not acceptable for me to wear my hat in the village either indoors or outdoors - it's almost like they regard you as being in their house as soon as you walk into village which kinda makes sense given that the land is communal.

The service was mostly in Fijian but was really lovely. The church was packed as there were many from other villages there as well - it was a special Sunday for them and there was a communion as part of it. During communion the lady behind us said we could go up and partake but we were both a wee bit nervous so we stayed put. The main highlight was the singing - it was incredible. The Fijians are descended from Africans and this was really evident in the singing - it was like being in Paul Simon's "Graceland". Everybody sung and in full harmony as well - not like the weedy singing you get at the back of UK churches. It was an amazing experience to be part of. After the service we shook hand with the minister who ask where we were from and was delighted to see us. The Fijians are genuinely extremely friendly and interested in you. We had a Sunday lunch of a lamb curry, chicken curry and fish after which everyone observed the day of rest by falling asleep. It was great to chill out a bit as we'd had quite a hectic time so we read our books and chatted when folk woke up. We discovered that the politics in Fiji are a bit dodgy - it's been a military dictatorship since 2006. It was interesting that they didn't seem to mind that much and pointed out that in tribal times (and still to some extent today as the village has a team of cheifs) there would have been a tribal leader - a dictatorship in itself so a modern dictatorship is no different.

On our last full day in Fiji we caught the bus into Nadi where we wanted to experience the Indian side to the population. There is a gorgeous Hindu temple with the most amazing coloured artwork. We were allowed inside where there were a couple of priests with fires and incense and devotees offering sacrifices of fruit. It was an extremely peaceful place to be. We wandered round Nadi a bit - it's a tourist town really and we were hassled a bit. It was really interesting that the guys hassling us would say things like "all the stores here are owned by the Indians and the Chinese, you should come into this store here - it's a real Fijian marketplace". It seemed that there was a bit of racism still evident in Fiji. We stopped for luch at a curry house, bought some butter to make shortbread and caught the bus to "The Garden of the Sleeping Giant". Viseisei Village is on the other side of a range of rocky hills which, from the side, looks like a sleeping giant right enough. Back when a British guy wanted a garden for his orchids which is now open to the public. The garden was gorgeous and felt really like a tropical rainforest. In fact, it was a bit like a cross between a tropical rainforest and a stately home garden but was really peaceful to walk around. They were even kind enough to look after our butter in their freezer while we explored which is just as well as in that heat it would have turned to oil. We decided to walk back to the village which turned out to be another of our epic strolls along a busy road. Poor Charlotte was only wearing flip-flops as well and ended up trying to put a plaster on a bit of her foot which was red from the rubbing - a difficult feat when all is sweat and humidity. As we walked cars beeped at us as they went past - a sort of amused greeting we think. Passers by stopped and chatted to us, and it was very refreshing to feel that people were being genuinely friendly and not hassling us for anything. Eventually we made it back and I made a dodgy but edible batch of shortbread. I don't think it was designed to be cooked in that kind of heat. It was a really amazing and different experience staying with Fi and Api - probably the first time we've had an insite into a way of life entirely different to our own.

We flew to Auckland the next day where we were to rendez-vous with Charlotte's sister Kat. She was getting in at 8.00am and us at 12.00pm so the theory was that she'd already be there but when we got to the departure gate for our flight to Christchurch, she wasn't there. After a bit of humming and hawing we went back out to the main concourse of the airport and sat in a strategic point where we reckoned everyone would have to pass and we could have a bite to eat. Eventually we spotted her wandering blankly around, tired after 48 h travel from (Salvador-Sao Paulo-Buenos Aires-Auckland) but on cheery form. Our fight to Christchurch was with Air New Zealand who gave us complementary wine and cheese on the plane (which Kat missed as she was asleep). Bizarrely, the safety video was a highlight and was actually deliberatly funny with varous members of the New Zealand All-Blacks rugby team appearing in it. It even had a streaking granny at the end!

It was my job to pick up to pick up our camper van the next day. The people at the hostel were charging $30 (about £15) for the 3-4 mile drive to the airport. I decided that we'd be better off if I just walked there which, apart from the brief walk along the side of a busy highway with no pavement, turned out to be a good idea and I got there in about an hour and a half. The lady at the desk looked up my booking which it turned out had been made through an agent and not with the company themselves. Apparently, the vehicle they'd booked for me on the system was for two and not three and for me to get the three-person one I'd need to pay a whole lot more money. On the booking sheet I had it said I had the three-person vehicle so the depot folk and me decided that the agent was to blame so we gave her a phone. Initially, she said that she'd refund the deposit for the new vehicle (slighly more than the one I'd paid) but I'd then have to pay the full amount the depot wanted, still a lot more than the amount I had on my booking form. I wasn't happy with this as I had a vehicle and a price she'd given me and I didn't see any reason that I shouldn't be getting what my contract said. I spoke to her myself and told her this and eventually, after a bit of a sob story about how she couldn't find her records due to the earthquake she caved and agreed to refund the difference so I paid what I was expecting to pay. I felt sorry for her as she was obviously in a bit of a pickle but it's business and I had a contract and my own budget to work to. So, after much too-ing and fro-ing I got the vehicle I needed for the three of it and headed back to the hostel to get Charlotte and Kat. There I found a very worried Charlotte who had been contemplating getting a police search-party (I'd been gone nearly three hours by this point) who was very impressed that I'd stood my ground. We headed off with our new found freedom.

Aloha and all that

That Starbucks gift token had turned us into sort of fiends for hunting out Starbucks – not something we'd been accustomed to before! It was quite a fun mini-adventure in itself. We became quite attached to our Starbucks quests. Our last was sipping cold Frappucinos in Honolulu airport (we had rather a long time between flights) and tentatively nibbling the only morsels of food we could afford to buy there. Turned out our flight from LA to Honolulu, despite being over a lunchtime, did not offer us any food, and we'd only scrounged a blueberry muffin from that accursed hostel.

Arriving in Hawaii we were suddenly back to that humid heat we'd left behind when we arrived in winter. It took a bit of getting used to. The airport was like a whole new world. So laid back, with all the staff in Hawaiian shirts – even the little icons on the toilet signs. We flew from Honolulu to Hilo on the Big Island, and were met there by our first couchsurfing host, Robert. He seemed to be the king of couchsurfing there. As we travelled round everyone we met had either stayed with Robert, had heard of him, or were hosting surfers who had already stayed with him. As he drove us out of the airport he pointed out Obama's plane just casually parked – the spare one he uses when it's not Air Force One. I suppose it makes sense that he spent the holidays in Hawaii!

His house was full of Basque/Spanish girls who seemed to have been busily checking out our profile and already knew everything about us. We were a teeny bit jet-lagged, but for these guys it was party time. They gave us beers and hot food and we played music videos on YouTube until Paul and I finally caved and went to bed. Next morning the Spanish girls gave us some thoughts about where to go, and warned us about centipedes. I kid you not. I thought they were joking, but apparently if a centipede bites you it could go pretty badly. We never saw a centipede, but just thinking about them made me giggle a little bit.

Robert gave us a lift into downtown Hilo to have a look at a great farmer's market and meet a Scottish friend of his who ran a ukulele shop. Hilo's a hippy and tourist paradise. Some lovely shops with merchandise way too expensive for us to think about buying. We found a free bus (dominated by an unhinged Hawaiian girl) and went to wander along some beaches. We even saw a turtle just swimming around a secluded little pool, which was cool.

Back at Robert's was a whole new set of couchsurfers to replace the Spanish girls – Emily, Billy and Grace. Billy and Grace were musicians who were spending a while trying to earn money playing on the Big Island, and Emily was WWOOFing on the island for a few months. She had just had a bike accident and seemed worryingly spaced out. Seemed like she needed the doctor to check her head over again. That evening we were going to the Hilo kava bar to see Billy and Grace play. He does gypsy fiddle type stuff, and she does a sort of folk-rap. They put on a really good show, and Paul got to join in with a bit of fiddling now and then. Kava is this stuff native to this part of the world which you grind up and drink as a tea, or put in brownies, or whatever you can think of, and has a similar effect to marijuana. It was a great night, and afterwards we headed back to Robert's to eat a curry I'd made and have guacamole which Robert seems to have on tap. We'd also made use of these crazy tiny red Hawaiian chillies which we'd completely underestimated the strength of. People were gasping for more yoghurt, but we found the chillies very exciting and I bashed the remainders up the next day to make a powerful hot sauce. I was so entranced by it I took a photo.

We woke on New Year's Eve to find the Spanish girls back. They'd been rumbled by the police for camping without a permit and had crawled back into the welcoming fold of Robert's living room. With our new wheels we took a drive up the island, stopping at some gorgeous botanical gardens (in the rain – this side of the island isn't so lush and green without reason) and looked at beaches and views. That evening the Spanish girls had decided to organise a party at Robert's. Emily, Billy and Grace were back, and then a couple more people turned up. There was great food, dancing, musical times (got to have a bit of a jam with Billy and Grace, and do a few songs as well). The Spanish girls did some Basque dancing, and Paul made shortbread and sang Auld Lang Syne with everyone. Probably one of the best New Year parties I've been to, in fact. It was a weird feeling to be among the last people in the world to celebrate it.

We finally managed to prize ourselves from Robert's hospitable arms on New Years Day and took the car to Volcano to meet our new host, Seth. Robert had invited Seth to the party, but he seemed to have had an adventure of his own that night. It was amazing he was alive and in to receive us! His house was one of the most unusual we've stayed in. It's a series of wooden-frame domes covered with tarpaulins, plus an outside toilet shack and outside shower. No electricity or light – basically camping indoors. It was very cool. We were staying on the top floor of the main dome which had ropes for swinging on hanging from the roof.

After a bit of coffee with Seth we drove to the volcano national park. It was so very cool to hike around an actual live volcano. We went round the rim and across a crater floor and the frozen lava. So surreal, like being on another planet. A scene from Star Trek or something, with all the rainforest-esque landscape around it. We saw steam vents, sulphur pits, and the glowing crater after dark. It was quite an adventure finding Seth's place again because there are no street lamps around Volcano, and moreso when we found it and fumbled around with candles for a while because he wasn't in to turn the generator on.

The next day we were all feeling very optimistic about sunshine coming out (it always rained heavily overnight, but was often sunny for at least some of the day) and so went for a beach theme. We started off at another very cool farmer's market (in the pouring rain), and then went snorkelling in some tidal pools. Because of the rain there was no-one else there, but it let off for a bit so Paul and I could take it in turns to use Seth's snorkel. Neither of us had done it before, and I really wasn't expecting how beautiful it was. It was actually amazing, despite the rain.

Then we went to some naturally hot pools and were nibbled by some fish, before going to a local hippy beach where they have a big drumming session every Sunday. On our way down to the path a guy asked us, 'want any bud?' and when we all politely declined, angrily shouted, 'what the fuck are you coming to the beach for, then? Just to look at naked people?' There wasn't much going on as the rain had chased many away, but there were a good few naked stoned people and drums. The waves looked lethal – you've got to worry for the hippies. I wouldn't be surprised if that place had its share of Sunday deaths

We waited for darkness at the place where the lava from the volcano flowed across the road and into the sea. Despite our optimism, the rain had not let off and was pummelling down harder than ever, and us in our skimpy beach clothes. The volcano area is not really a warm place, either. We did try and wait for a break in the rain before heading for the flow, but could not avoid several bone-chilling drenchings. It was worth it, though. We arrived quite early and got front row seats (the people behind us constantly moaned about it – 'maybe the front row should move to let people behind have a look... that guy in the hat is in the way...' etc. Well maybe they should have got there earlier and waited longer in the rain like we did. We deserved our view). It started off as a vast volcanic landscape with a little glow. Then suddenly the glow erupted as a whole flow of lava broke through the crust and trickled down. It was a bit like watching paint dry, but in a fun way. A bit more exciting. And as it got darker more glowing trails appeared all over the hillside. It was amazing to watch the flow approach. Another surreal moment. We filmed it so along with the New Year party and some of our other adventures in the USA, it's part of our USA video.

We ended the evening with some songs, tunes, and quesadillas with Seth, and then prepared to leave the next day. That morning we finally braved the outdoor shower (as I mentioned, Volcano is not warm), and then headed up Saddle Road across the centre of the island. This road is normally out of bounds to rental cars because sections of it are loose gravel, but we were determined to cross it because in the middle was the highest mountain in the world, Mauna Kea. It's not actually the highest mountain above sea-level, but as its base is on the ocean floor, it's technically the tallest. It's very important to the Big Island because it is home to all the observatories. And with some of the clearest skies available, these are top observatories. Anyone who's anyone has an observatory there. The UK has 2. We reached the visitor's centre and immediately noticed the colder, thinner air. The next bit of the road (to the summit) was definitely out of bounds to us, but the Spanish girls had managed it fine in their rental, and we were feeling a bit daring. Although the couple stranded at the visitor's centre because their rental car had been totalled on loose rocks was a bit of a concern.

The summit was about as high as the highest point of the Inca Trail (with no chance to get acclimatised) and it was freezing cold and windy. There was a bit of hiking to do, and then a breathtaking view of the volcanic rocky landscape below. It would have been stunning to see at night, but it might have been a bit much for the car. Taking it on that road was nerve-racking enough in the daytime. On the way back down we noticed that Paul's iPod had stopped working again (hark back to Peru and Bolivia). It worked again at a lower elevation – so it seems as though it doesn't like certain altitudes as it had stopped when at altitude in Puno before.

The other side of the island was nice and sunny, and we found a nice beach with some historic ruins, and watched the sunset. Then to our next couchsurf hosts – Shannon and Ronja. They're both massage therapists and live in a fancy condo complex in Waikoloa Village. They had access to a hot tub and a pool, and let me into their store-cupboard to do some cooking (I love other people's ingredients). They'd also heard of Robert, and were meant to be hosting the Basque girls next. Funny. And out at night from there, being so close to Mauna Kea, the stars were amazing. I've never seen so many, or the sky so dark.

Next day we'd discovered from a sign at the Observatory visitor centre that the BBC was filming at a nearby beach LIVE. What's more it was a Prof Brian Cox show (sadly he wasn't there). So much excitement was not to be missed. We hurried down and watched for a bit, talking to some of the amateur astronomers who were being featured in the special on sun-gazing. To our joy they invited us to come and see their telescopes. We got into conversation about astronomy and science communication, and soon found ourselves manning telescopes and being in the background of the shots. So very surreal – live on British TV from Hawaii. We learnt a lot to, and saw yet another facet of Big Island life with the astronomy society people.

Now, for us this trip is one big liminal zone – a transitional year if you would. That means we're a danger to ourselves and others in ethnological terms. Oh yes, we are.

After the sun-gazing we drove to a place recommended by Ronja for a hike. Truly it was beautiful, but possibly one of our most dangerous times of the trip so far. That bit of the island was another rain zone, for a start. Despite that it all began well with an amazing view and a steep walk down to a nice beach. After that there were paths (unmaintained, we later read). The direction we took was to be my decision, and even though it was muddy and bugs bit us everywhere, it was still going well. Still lovely views, still a nice walk. But then the path we were following got a little steep. To the extent that if we were to keep following it we would have to abseil down the cliff-side using ropes that were tied to some trees. A normal person would turn back, especially someone with our low level of fitness, but Paul seemed confident he could make it and I trusted him. I did, however, have quite a fear of death as I backed down that valley-side with no idea how long I would have to be doing it for. In fact, it was a teeny bit terrifying and I decided that there must be another way round once we reached the bottom which would mean we wouldn't have to go back up that way.

We actually made it down in one piece, and I had a bit of an adrenalin high from it. The path led to a bamboo forest, through which was one magical-looking corridor. The bamboo tunnel spat us out onto a dry river-bed paved in boulders. We followed it down towards the sea and found a camp surrounded by ropes of the same ilk as the ones we'd climbed down, with tarpaulins hidden in the bushes to cover the ropes at night. It looked like it had recently been inhabited. We had a look at the sea, and then I got it into my head that if we followed the river bed in the other direction, we would find another way round and back into our original valley. Wrong. We scrambled over the rocks in the river bed for about an hour before Paul put his foot down and turned back. His shoes were split and he was not a happy bunny. I was a little bit concerned about the lateness of the day, and had to accept the inevitable of scaling back up that rope path. For the record, it was a nice walk through the valley! So peaceful, secluded, green, etc etc.

We were making good time and found the rope camp in half the time it had taken to get as far as we had. But then we couldn't find the bamboo tunnel. No matter how hard we searched the river bank, we just couldn't find a way back onto the path, and without that we'd never find the ropes again. We were stuck, and Paul panicked. Plus we were both tired and weak from not much food. We searched around in a whirl for about half an hour, finally pushing our way through forest in a rough direction, hoping we'd find the ropes again. I was beginning to wonder if anyone was meant to use the rope path except for the people who had made that camp. Perhaps this was their secret spot. It all seemed a bit dodgy and weird. We even stumbled across a ruined village down there. We were at the point of despair – we were lost and it was starting to rain again – but then I saw the entrance to the bamboo tunnel, and we were saved.

Except now it was really pissing down with rain, and what had been a risky abseil was now a slippery death-trap of mud. I realised how badly prepared we were for this hike – we had no first aid kit and no way of getting help if one of us got injured (which was very possible, even in the river bed) save going out and waving at a helicopter. Hopefully the girls would call someone when we didn't come home, and they'd discover our forlornly abandoned hire-car. We had no desire to stay the night at the dodgy rope-camp either, so we were very pleased to find our way again.

I think it was only a rush of adrenalin that got me up the rope path. At one point my sunglasses fell out of my pocket and rolled down the hillside behind me. And what did I do? I lowered myself carefully backwards to get them, kicking stones loose which fell and knocked the glasses further out of my grasp. I don't know how we both managed it. I really thought I was going to die, and the rain all the while was hurtling down making the path more and more dangerous. What if our strength failed? What if we slipped?

We made it back up (with an hour and a half's walk still to go). I was so relieved. I'm NEVER doing that again. We warned some passers-by – if you see a path with ropes hanging down it, don't be tempted. Just turn back. I think we must have looked very dishevelled. When we reached the car again on the other side of the other valley, what did we find? There had been a way round the valley by the beach. And there was us risking death going up and down. Very funny. Anyway, we got back alive, tired, muddy, and bleeding just a little. Back in time for tea, as is the rule for all good adventurers. The girls had invited their friends round and our first words through the door: epic. They all laughed, because they were making 'epic cookies'. I was enlisted to make another couple of store-cupboard curries, which was fun. One of the visitors, Bonnie, had violin, and was interested in Scottish music. We had some tunes and some good craic generally.

The next day was our last on the Big Island. We drove back to Hilo to kill time before taking the car back to the airport. Paul bought a Hawaiian shirt (well, you couldn't expect him not to, could you?). I had acquired a Hawaiian dress from Grace, so we were all kitted out. We even bought Paul new walking boots. Our last stop was Honolulu, which most people had warned us was a rubbish place. But we only had a day there so we weren't bothered. Our final host, Kimberly, picked us up and presented us with garlands of flowers like in the movies. We spent our Honolulu day walking around the beaches and the city. It was big and touristy, and indeed it was a bit like Miami. But it was much nicer, and was situated among some very different style mountains to the Big Island. We went to Waikiki beach, and were glad we didn't spend our whole trip around there. But all in all we were pleasantly surprised by the place. I even found a gallery showing the paintings of this artist I'd become obsessed with when I was 12 or 13 (Christian R Lassen).

We left early in the morning, and as a result Paul managed to lose yet another useful thing – the power adaptor. That definitely put a dampener on things. But no matter – next we were to be crossing the dateline (oh the confusion!) and heading to Fiji.

All in all, Hawai'i was amazing. It's a beautiful place with none of the difficulties we found in places like Cuba, and it didn't feel like a part of the US either. We met some great people and had some great times. What's more, we managed to stay in budget! What a triumph!