The breaking of the Third Hired Vehicle

We managed to capture my Address to the Sausages on video so that has become our video for New Zealand.

So JD is a Couchsurfer from Singapore who stayed with us not long after we signed up a few months before we leftthe UK. JD is also planning a visit to New Zealand and his research had turned up the site transfercar.co.nz. The idea is that vehicle hire companies who have a surplus of vehicles at one place put them up for a free one-way-hires to where they'd prefer them to be. Because most people one-way-hire from Auckland to Christchurch, there's a surplus of vehicles in Christchurch which gave us an advantage. A bit of internet too-ing and fro-ing later and we had our free car to drive from Christchurch Airport (where we dropped the van) to Auckland Airport (where we were to fly to Japan) – perfect!

I should also explain at this point that New Zealand has a very odd driving rule. If you're turning left at a junction, you give way to any cars turning right into the junction. This hadn't bothered me much driving the van as I usually just waited for stuff to happen and then go last. It came back to bite me at this point though. I was turning right crossing over the other lane of traffic. Because I'd only just started driving the car I wasn't confident about making it across quickly enough without being smashed to bits by the approaching traffic so I decided to wait rather than go despite the fact that there was a left turning car giving way to me. The next thing I knew there was a crunching noise and our car shook as a 4x4 driver decided to squeeze through the cap between us and the car behind, not quite making it. I saw him drive off as bits of the back of our car went bouncing onto the road. The back bumper was half-off so I tried to balance it back on before speaking to the woman in the car behind who'd managed to write down part of the 4x4 driver's number. Insurance is non-compulsory in New Zealand and it's likely that he/she wasn't insured so drove off to avoid having to pay for the damage to our car. This of course is an offence. I got the car through the junction and the bumper bounced off again, we put it back, it fell off again as soon as we moved. We stopped to evaluate our situation and just as luck would have it, a police car came round the corner. The policeman was a lovely chap, really sympathetic and took all the information I could give him about what had happened and he let us use his phone to ring the hire company. They said to stay put and wait for a pick-up so Charlotte headed to the hostel (which was just down the road) and I waited with the car. The policeman took the partial number-plate details from the lady behind and the woman in the car behind that (who caught up with us round the corner) and by the time he was heading off said that they had a likely positive ID on the car and would probably be paying the driver a visit. Eventually a pickup arrived to take me back to the depot and luckily (again) we'd paid for an excess reducer so there was only NZ$100 (~£50) to pay before I was given a new car and sent on my way. Gingerly, I drove it back to the hostel.

That evening we visited Sarah and Andy Masters. Sarah used to work with me at the University of Edinburgh and has just got a job at the University in Christchurch. She and Andy had arrived the week before while we'd been campervanning. We had a lovely evening with them and their two kids Imogen and Isabel (Isabel is only 6 months). That day Andy had been given a job and they'd just about gone through with buying their dream house. It's great that things have worked out so well for them.

We got up early the next morning and drove 5 h to Picton where the ferry goes to the North Island. It was a windy day but luckily the ferry journey was pretty smooth and we landed at Wellington, the capital of New Zealand. Surprisingly we had little difficulty navigating our way to Síle, our Couchsurfer's house. She's originally from Ireland and lives at the top of one of Wellington's many steep roads with her flatmates James (from Cornwall), Emily (New Zealand), Amanda (New Zealand) and Janneke (New Zealand/The Netherlands). They had dinner ready for us (I love it when Couchsurfers do that!) so we tucked right in. Síle donated her room to us as it had a double bed and she slept in her flatmate's room as her flatmate had just moved out.

We headed into Wellington the next day by taking a route through a wooded area. While being not particularly architectuarily beautiful, we found that Wellington had a nice atmostphere and many nice wee shops. Cuba street was a highlight (and brought back some interesting memories of our Cuba experience) and we took a wander through the gorgeous Botanical Gardens before doing the free parliament tour. It's set-up and done-up quite similarly to the Westminster parliament but they've taken the rather odd step to getting rid of their Upper House. Instead, they have an extensive committee system which thrashes out the details of bills before they become law. The public can observe committee meetings and even take part should they wish to do so. The Kiwis were particularly proud to be one of the oldest democracies in the world as they were the first country to give women the vote.

Back at Síle's place we got in some fish and chips. It was now nearly 6 months since I'd had my last chip supper and I was having withdrawal symptoms. I'd even bought a can of mushy peas when we were still in the van for such an occasion. The New Zealand fish and chips were a pretty close imitation of the UK version apart from the fact that the chips were giant and you ordered them separately from the fish. We ended up with a massive feast which even included a few deep fried Mars Bars – so much like home! I finished the meal with a rendition of “Cholesterol”, it seemed appropriate. After dinner we went for a game of Crazy Golf. Golf and everything that goes with it usually brings me out in a rash but I generally say that Crazy Golf is the exception. This course was on a piece of land owned by a guy who makes sculptures out of scrap and you paid by putting money into an honesty box which was guarded by a slightly nervous looking chicken (I kid you not). Every time you tried to put money in the box it eyed you suspiciously and gave a slighly pathetic “buc” noise. Like the honest folk we were, we paid the chicken and had a hilarious round – especially when it became apparent how dreadful we all were. Our hosts decided to re-live their teenage years by singing a selection of hits of the 90s so we even had a musical accompaniment.

The Wellington flatmates waved us off rather sleepily the next morning and we spent most of the day driving to Rotorua. We did have one stop-off though which was particularly important to Charlotte (and one of the motives for making sure we had a car). A bunch to New Zealand scientists came up with the idea of building an equivalent to Stonehenge in New Zealand. It wasn't to be a replica but instead a working monument/sculpture/scientific piece of kit which they could use to follow the progress of the sun, moon and stars over the course of the year and maybe get some insight into why the original Stonehenge was built. The funny thing was that it was then adopted by a bunch of Neo-druids who said it was sacred and they had a right to worship there – bizarre! It was a really lovely place to be and we both loved the idea behind it. There was a great acoustic in the middle and I sang some bits of songs to demonstrate it.

It was a long drive to Rotorua (8 h) and I was dead by the end of it but we eventually arrived and found our hostel – all the Couchsurfers were fully booked by the time we were enquiring. Rotorua is a Geothermal area so we spent the next day wandering around some of the crazy bubbly bits (which are also pretty smelly) and drove round some of the countryside around the town. There was an amazing redwood forest which we took walk in. The Rotorua area was used as “The Shire” in Lord of the Rings and you can see why. It also has black swans which look pretty sinister and it was clear that there's been a lot of rain as the lake was overflowing onto the pavement around it.

Our last stop was Auckland. We left Rotorua early as we were due to meet a former postdoc of my dad's who still collaborates with him (albeit from the other side of the world). He and his wife have twin girls who are 3 years old. They were initially terrified of us (as all wee kids are) but warmed to us as the day went on. He was one of the most enthusiastic dads I've ever met. In fact, it was lovely to meet parents who have retained their enthusiasm for being parents despite the crazy times they had. We went on a family day out to the beach – Piha beach which is on the west coast of the island. It's a black sand beach which glistens with iron fillings in the sun and has a rock which looks like a lion. We had an amazing meal in the wee restaurant there while the girls covered themselves in chocolate ice-cream. Afterwards we had a walk on the beach and tried to teach the girls about avoiding jellyfish without giving them phobias. We weren't that successful and by the time we were leaving one of the girls had convinced herself that there were jellyfish at every step. She calmed down after a quick play in the play-park and Charlotte and I had a play as well. It seemed that the park was more designed for us rather than them. Back at the house we played some tunes for the girls who put their fingers in their ears. They'll get into it one day I suppose!

Our last full day in New Zealand was really chilled out. We drove to the beach next to Piha and sat on a rock, wondering if anyone else had spotted the naked sunbather hiding behind a rock across from us. Afterwards we dropped back to Piha so we could take a look at it in the sunshine as it had been pretty grey the day before. It was spectacular. Dinner was at "Burger Fuel" – New Zealand's home-grown burger place where we both had “Bastards” and ate our burgers out of “doofers” which were beautifully designed cardboard devices which prevented burger falling apart. Genius!

It was Charlotte's birthday when we headed to the airport which was a bit of a shame but we attempted a celebration in the airport at Auckland by having a meal in the pub there. It was actualy really good for an airport pub meal. It was then a short transit in Sydney before heading to the land of the rising sun and a totally new adventure. New Zealand is fab - gorgeous and so chilled out. I'd recommend it to anyone, even if you're a bit travel shy as the culture is very similar to the UK. It was particularly encouraging that the Kiwis lived up to their reputation - no worries mate!

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.