tramping new zealand

The blokes, names Geoff and Doug, can’t hurry today, the high tide is 11 am and there is little point with the creek crossing and coastal route to traverse. The rain may have stopped for the moment but the wind is still howling, the sea is running high, so we continue last evening’s chat.

It’s amazing how much there is to get through for a few similar age characters who have done the odd adventurous thing.

Geoff is with the police and while there were many stories, the most memorable was told with such a straight face you might even believe him.

He volunteered for the cannabis patrol. They had three weeks’ flying around in helicopters, pulling out plants, but the story of spooking a deer which then broke its leg, then him jumping from the chopper and killing the deer with use of a Swiss Army knife had us all laughing most uncontrollably.

We traded more stories this morning as it surprisingly brightened, the sun coming out.

I accompanied them back for an hour and a half, I wanted to get some photos of yesterday’s rocks and say hi to those seals once again. Out of habit I donned my over-trou, etc, full wet weather gear, except the gloves were omitted, which on reflection did seem somewhat overdone, but, just as well, there was a series of little fronts that came past with huge gusts of wind and accompanying rain, seriously miserable. I sheltered behind the big rocks, the last was full on hail for five minutes, with me caught out in the open mostly, unable to see due to the hail horizontal into my eyes.

Now the sun is setting, mostly clear sky, still windy, the fire cranking, but I’m once again on my lonesome.

Will certainly be earlier to bed tonight.