After two days on the phone with the corporate office of Stray (the tour bus company that was the bane of my existence), they finally let me cancel my trip and gave me a little money back--not a lot, but I take it as an accomplishment, regardless. I decided that i was going to hitchhike on the South Island. Now, I would never think twice about doing this in the United States, even in my suburban hometown for that matter, but I have talked to so many people that have used it as their mode of transportation that I figured I should try it.
I woke up at around 6 am in order to catch a three hour ferry to the South Island. Annaliese Rittershaus, my amazing friend from Spot, has family in the city, Nelson that was happy and willing to let me stay with them for a few nights. The ferry lands in Picton, which is about a two hour drive from Nelson. The bus driver from the ferry to the luggage terminal was very excited for me to attempt hitchhiking; he gave me a few tips and then sent me on my way.
I was walking for maybe five minutes when a white car pulled over and waved at me to jump in. An older woman, Katie, was also heading to Nelson and drove me the entire way. Amazing. She’s actually a neurologist from the states and working in New Zealand. We stopped in the town of Havelock, which is apparently the muscle capital of the world, and ate some of the biggest muscles I’ve ever seen, steamed in white wine and garlic. She even treated me—thanks, Katie!.
Once we were about three minutes out of Havelock she looks down and realizes that her gas gauge is on empty. We go back to Havelock and pull into the Shell station only to realize that it was closed. WHAT?? The next petrol station (their word for gas) was about 40 km away in Rie Valley. Luckily we made it there, but we were definitely worried.
Once in Nelson, Lisa Lynch, Annaliese’s aunt, picked me up and I went with her and her husband, Brian, as well as their kids Katja and Karamea to Lisa's friend’s house, Donn and Mary (lots of names in that sentence, I know). They just built a pizza oven in their back yard and Mary painted a giant board white to make an outdoor movie theatre—awesome! When we arrived, it was already cocktail hour—my favorite. We sat around drinking, chatting and consuming hoer d’vours until the sun went down and we could put on some movies. We basically just made our own outdoor concert filled with singing, dancing, and drinking—a few of the headliners were Abba, Bee Gees, and Supertramp.
The next day I went for a run and, you guessed it, got lost. What was meant to be an hour run turned into just short of two. Ugh, leave it to me to get lost when there is only one road. Somehow I missed the house and ran about twenty minutes out of the way—guh!
I stayed at Lisa and Brian’s place that night and they fed me a gorgeous dinner of Lamb steaks, garlic bread, and Greek salad to prepare me for my next day’s adventure—hiking the Abel Tasman Coast track.
Brian brought me to the bus stop at 6:30 am (thank-you so much!) and sent me on my way to Abel Tasman National Park. When I got there I had to repack my belongings, because I have way too much stuff with me to carry on a multiple day hike, and went on my way. I originally booked campsites along the way for a three day hike, however, I ended up walking most of the distance in one day (10 hours of hiking!). At the campsite, I met a German woman who invited me to sleep with her in her tent. Staying in huts costs $30 a night, whereas the campsites are only $12! I figured I’d save money by sleeping in my sleeping bag with a giant trash bags over me to keep me dry—luckily, I didn’t have to test that awful theory.
The next morning, I had to walk through Awaroa bay at a certain time in order to make low tide—otherwise, the water is too high. I had to take off my shoes and socks and walk across shallow rivers between muddy, shell filled beaches. I got to the end a day and a half earlier than I expected. I had to wait on Tontongo beach for an hour and a half for the aquataxi. This would be fantastic if there weren’t sandflies attacking me everywhere they could. I now have a giant scab on my foot from scratching too much—whoops. I’m telling you, these sandflies are more vicious than misquitos and their bite is itchier than the chicken pox.
The hike, itself, is too beautiful for words. Golden beaches and bright blue water--please check out my flickr site for the photos so you can see what I mean!
We rode back along the coast looking at rock formations and seals before finally getting back to Manahu. I grabbed my bags and started hitchhiking towards Karamea to hike the Heaphy track!
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