So, as we continued our trek following Scotland we had a few days “off” before heading up to Picton at the north of the south island (try keep up folks) and from there, we would catch the ferry to Wellington for the next stage of the road trip.
As ever, it was an early start on the Saturday morning, we had to be at the port for 1.30pm to catch the 2.15pm ferry. So packed and and ready to rock, we hit the road for a trek through the northern part of the south island (I did tell you to try and keep up).
To be honest, not much really happened on the first leg to our first stop, very nice mountains, forest and other such things, but nothing that I though would make a worthy addition to my memoirs (not that anything else I’ve mentioned so far is, but hey.) We stopped after a few hours drive at a nice little beach about half way to Picton, it may well have been nearer, but my lack of note keeping is making this considerably tougher than it should have been (damn it all to hell!)
Before we left I heard someone say that we need to stop and see the seals on the way up, I had (wrongly) assumed that there was some kind of wildlife park on our route and was being taken for a tour of it, I thought that this would be a waste of time as we were on a tight timeline and had to make the ferry, not for the first time on this trip, I was wrong.
At the beach there were seals, real (as opposed to stuffed ones I suppose) in the flesh seals! The camera was out in the a flash (see what it did there!) I started wandering about to find a good place to shoot from (not that kind of shooting, this is getting complicated) and a hopefully willing subject that would let me photograph them and not have to pay them anything for the pleasure, I was in luck!
My “willing” subject
Any closer and I would have been on first name terms!
Now this was great! here I was being David Bellamy! Here I was, in my element, this was the life! Then, for no apparent reason and nothing to do with being too close to it, the seal started to get up and shout at me! I beat a hasty retreat. After upsetting the locals, we headed for the ferry, another very lovely, but dull journey continued to the ferry port at Picton.
We arrived with time to spare and headed straight to the port to board, it was past lunchtime and we were all needing a refreshment and something to eat. (Refreshment, read beer).
Once boarded and refreshed (that just does not sound right) we settled down for the journey, I went up on deck just in time to see us sailing through the stunning Marlborough sounds. For reasons a will never fully understand I had decided that I would not need my camera on the upper decks, so had left it in the van, I hope you can all forgive this more terrible mistake, I’m still not sure if I can forgive my self.
Once we docked in Wellington, it was off the ferry and to our campsite that was about 30 or 40 minutes drive away, in a place called Upper Hut. The normal jokes were exchanged, mostly about pizza hut and Lower Hutt (this is also an actual place that we had to drive through, to get to Upper Hutt) and all of this is located in the southern part of the north island (I did warn you at the start). We get to the site, got sorted out and it was back to town and the fanzone for a few refreshments with people we had met down in Invercargill (south of the south island for those for are keeping track). A generally good time was had by all and we agreed that we must do it again the next day, before the rugby (which was the whole reason for being in New Zealand after all).
We started the next day by getting a train from Upper Hutt station to Wellington, a supposed ten minute journey or so our tour guide (Colin) had said, eh no. An hour after getting on the train we are in Wellington city centre and it is chucking it down, the decision to chuck away the ponchos we got at the Georgia game now suddenly seemed slightly premature.
We head into a taxi and then to the main museum in Wellington. We aim to get a little local culture before partaking in a little Scottish culture before the game! In the museum it is “Scottish” day, with various events on throughout the day, pipers, highland dancing and other equally stereotypically Scottish events. In light of this, we went to part of the museum that dealt with the history of the local Māori and found a live performance of various haka being performed. Now, for those of you who think that the haka is just an all blacks thing, you are sadly mistaken. “haka” simply means dance (or so I was informed).
The, well I suppose group is the right word, performed various haka and there was a gentleman on hand to explain what each one meant and he also informed us that after they had finished, the performers would be coming round the crowd for photos. Damn I’ve only got my phone on me, not my full kit. Oh well, it will just need to do I suppose.
Dad meeting and greeting as only he can!
Hello ladies!
After this dose of Māori culture it was time for some Scottish culture, also known as hitting the pub!
We went to a small bar and got a bit of lunch then hit mac’s brew bar on the waterfront and met up with people, drank some beers and it was all very pleasant. Something was missing however, I went for a walk to see if I could find what was missing, and boy did I find it!
Giant beer fists! This is what made the night!
After this it was off to the match we went, and we caught up with piped walk to the ground and followed on to the match, during which time we exchanged various songs with the los pumas fans also making their way to the match. I wont lie, I did jump in to a few pictures, and was pulled into a lot more! It was Brilliant. This is what makes rugby different from football, a fan camaraderie that cannot be matched. (More of which I will talk about when I get to the Auckland post).
As with previous posts, I wont talk about the rugby, the match reports are online if you wish to read them, suffice to say, “we was robbed”.
Walking up the steps to the exit of the stand I start to sing the proclaimers, “I’m on my way”. At which point Colin joins in, so there we are, beer fists on, soaked to the skin, beaten and we are singing the proclaimers. The mind boggles. This is what it is to be a Scotland fan.
We make the short walk to the train station and board the train bound for Upper Hutt, it is packed, me and Colin do the only right and proper thing, and burst into song again, but this time it is not the Proclaimers, but a song by the superb troop from Monty Python, “Always look on the bright side of life”. What more do I need to say, I sure you can envision the madness of it all. Bloody Brilliant.
We are the last stop, the end of the line. Around 20 or so people depart the train and make our way to the bus stops and taxi ranks at the front of the station, To quote Victor Meldrew “I do not believe it!”. The buses have finished for the night, and as it we soon discovered, there are only TWO taxis on tonight! TWO, I mean come on! Who had the bright idea of not having extra bus services on, then decided it was a good idea to have only two taxis on!! Again, the mind boggles. So, after an hour on the train, it was another hour at the station waiting. In the taxi we broke the news to the driver that there was still at least another 2 trains to come in! He was not pleased, but then he had not been standing for an hour the cold night, soaked to the skin after being mugged by the pumas I’m not too sure what his particular grievance was.
Right, that is enough for now. Stay tuned for more ramblings of a Scotsman in New Zealand! (though at this point he is technically home and is writing this from memoires, hazy ones at that!)
See ya!
