December 10th On Monday we did a bone carving course. It was run by a scary German immigrant who told us off for being power-tool happy. He shook his head with annoyance every time he came over to us and saw how our pendants were going. Mind you, they turned out great, but not as good as they could have perhaps - given that we were 'not as good as him'! Tuesday and Wednesday of this week was spend kayaking around the Abel Tasman National park. We'd actually camped in the grounds where we were to be picked up from. So you'd think we'd manage to be on time for once in our lives. We were to be picked up at 8:30. At 8:40, we were still looking for Brian's watch. We ended up leaving without it, and headed out to have our safety brief before starting our paddle. After hearing about two sets of couples who'd died recently doing the same paddle we were about to do (that's why I tell you that AFTER we did it, Mum!) - one from hypothermia when their kayak capsized and the other when they were thrown into the rocks lining the water's edge all along, we set out on our own. We got 100metres out into the open water, our briefing instructor nowhere to be seen anymore, when we realised we'd left every last drop of water back in the car, 2km down the road. Who would have known that when Steve, the instructor joked about the German couple not having any beers with them, and we joked back "That's all we have!", we were actually right?? All we had for 2 days of kyaking was a can of NZ beer. So, it was back to shore, where Brian managed to sweet-talk another kyaking company for some of their water (that's why I sent him... he shows a bit of leg much better than I do.) The trip itself was pretty spectacular. It was about 20-25km all up, and we did the first 15-20 on the first day. We stopped at Mosquito Beach for the first night, and went for an explore of the area. I stopped in for a closer look at a secluded piece of shrubbery, and as I walked back out to Brian, I felt my left foot sink into the ground. "Oh no", I thought, as my right foot followed. There was nowhere to go but forward, with my nice purple jumper in hand, and I landed face and hands first into the mosquito-ridden mud. So it was a quick rinse in the water for all my clothes, and then they were hung out on various branches to dry overnight. So of course I woke up in the early hours of the morning to the soothing sound of heavy rain on the tent roof! I jumped out into the rain in my underwear (all that I had that was dry...not for long), and Brian watched in amusement as I ran backwards and forwards in front of the tent flap as I tried to remember (in my half asleep state...and those who know what I'm like should be impressed I remembered how to run at all) where all my clothes had been carefully placed. Once I picked them all up, I ran straight back to the tent and promptly fell straight back to sleep again. Only to be woken up an hour or so later to the sounds of some large animal snorting/barking very close by... we can only think it was a male seal on the beach. It was tempting to get up to see, but more so to stay in that warm safe tent. The next day we paddled out to Tonga Island, where we watched seals swimming around our kayak and leisurely played and washed themselves. It was about this stage that I heard the "Sweetie?" that I've come to dread. It always prefaces the question "Have you seen...?" In this case it was the hire company's bright purple windbreaker...which he remembered (after a few minutes of frantic searching in a tippy kayak on rough water) to have placed behind his back as a cushion. We paddled on and a pod of dolphins swam in front of us, one leaping out of the water just in front of our kayak - amazing! We made it to Takaka yesterday - a hippie town that is home to the "Pu Pu Springs" - the clearest spring in the world. It's a constant 11 degrees C all year round, so we rented some wetsuits (with holes all over them - what's the point?!) from a nearby pub, and bravely ventured in with tourists taking photos of us instead of the scenery. A good way to make one feel a tad self-concious. The water was like ice, and you didn't get used to it. But the view was incredible. You could see all the way to the other side of the spring (about 20m) perfectly, and all the way to the bottom, where you could see the water bubbling up from the earth, and pushing the sand out of the way. After looking around there, we did the river drift, to swim with the trout. That sounds a lot more gentle and peaceful than what they should really call it. Which should be "Race along a fast moving river that's only 20cm deep in places and bash your body against the rocks in the rapids while dodging the overhanging branches". It was fun, but we were pretty sore and beaten up by the time we were finished. We were exhausted for the rest of the day, so we just spent it driving closer to the west coast. It snowed last night as we went to bed, which was exciting. That snow turned into rain by the time we woke up, so I made the brilliant suggestion of finding a shelter for breakfast. I've since vowed never to ask this, because our ideas of shelter mean different things. When I said shelter, I didn't think we were going to attempt a gravel/mud road after rain to reach a picnic table in the middle of nowhere. Nice idea. Not so nice in Bessie the Beast (our van - started off as the "Beast" but got renamed by Brian because it "drove like an old cow"), with no traction on it's almost-bald tyres, and low setting to the ground. That was at around 10:30. At around 11, we'd tried every trick we know of - packing the ground with branches and rocks, me pushing, Brian pushing. It was pouring. It was time to call for assistance. We walked a little way until we found a hippie commune type housing estate in the middle of nowhere. Strangely enough, his beaten up little ford (or something similar) couldn't shift ol' 200 tonne Bessie. Things were looking grim. It was now 12pm. Until! A 4WD came along with 2 strapping lads and an old wise kiwi who thorougly enjoyed proving the might of his own beast. A "She'll be right" as he hooked up the van to his ute, and the lads and I got behind Bessie and pushed. Bessie's tyres spun out, his ute's tyres spun out....yet we kept trying. There was no way this man was going to give up and be shown up. "What we need is a bit more gravel," he said decisively, as he got his shovel out from the back. He effortlessly piled some more dirt and rocks under there (it had taken me a good 20 minutes to arrange them all just so when I did it), and we were back behind Bessie pushing again. This time we were out - not that the old wise man seemed at all surprised about. I'm surprised we didn't get a lecture beginning with "I can never get over all the people who come out here unprepared...." They waved away our offer of a carton of beer, saying "Nah, Good as gold, bro. Good as gold", and they sped off, with us following a little more hesitantly. It was now 12:30pm. We found that shelter two hours on and finally got to enjoy some 'breakfast'. It's now 4:30, and almost time for lunch!
