Abel Tasman

Having Bo's house as a base, we ventured off to one of the more popular tracks. The Abel Tasman Coastal Track runs along the peninsula which divides Golden Bay from the Marlborough Sounds. This is a 51km journey from top to bottom which should probably be done in 5 days. We did it in 4. As you can see, there is a huge range of terrain to cross, making each day full of new challenges. Not exactly the remoteness we enjoyed above Ohau, but still a stunning walk.

Glimpse of a golden sand beach further down the trail. Combing the numerous beaches made this walk very distracting, but a retreat into the cool jungle was strong encouragement to get moving again.

Back to our roots. A prehistoric looking tree strangled in vines and occupied by various other clingy plants.

Twisty swingbridge over rushing waters.

The sun is going down, and the tide starts to pull out. If we don't hurry, we'll loose sight of our destination in the dusk. Quite a finish for a 20km hike.

We've comitted to the crossing. The bay is cold and the water is high.

Out to sea.

Shell ring bling.

Silohuette sunset.

At the top

Having left the west coast to give Nelson area a go, we cruzed into town in our normally late fashion. Around the corner from our hostel we stumbled into a sign. A fortune to find that Bo, an aquaintence we made at the other end of the island (Dunedin), was playing that night. Over a little boogie and some drinks at The Mean Fiddler (cool rustic cowboy whisky bar), we took like a seed to the wind and floated someplace nice. Golden Bay is a wonderful little community much like Santa Cruz. Filled with all sorts of 'alternative minded' people and nurtring family homes. Bo brought us into his loving family and around his playful paradise. Trips to the beach, feasts and drinks at The Mussel Inn, and throwing large rocks down Harwood's hole (a cave shaft 172m. It's about an 8 second freefall before you hear the crash). So far, this must be the place. We've seen a fair amount of the south island now and this nook reminds us most of home. Especially when surrounded by such a loving family.

Wharangi beach, views from atop Big Jim, a monolith at the end of the beach.

Seal pool.

Under arches.

Shadow caves.

Solar joy.

Sunset outlines the face of a guardian rock looking out to sea.

The great entertainer, Bo Zwanikken, with housebus/musicstudio.

Bo's Bedford conversion.

Way out west

We have finally crossed the divide. A long stretch of frosty mountain peaks known as the Southern Alps mark the gateway for rainclouds wanting to pass. Before they may enter, their pockets are emptied and the rugged coastline soon becomes dripping with life. On our tour up towards Rock'n'Wood ranch (Wwoofing hosts), we stopped at a couple of secluded beaches for the night. Hearing that most of NZ's jade comes from a river nearby, we also headed upstream in hopes of striking green. So far we've been 100% with our camping. One spot was an island quarry surrounded by swampy rivers. Another was a twisting trail through a palm forest to a remote beach with dimpled rock formations. There's so much explorable terrain out here, inviting us into it's secluded ecosystems. The Rock'n'Wood ranch was a wonderful host, introducing us to various horse training techniques. And how to paint a shed.

Our first gilmpse of the narrow west coast. Lush green rainforests press up against the base of Fox and Franz Josef glaciers.

Sun sets with floating islands in the background. Paradise. Aren't all west coasts?

Dawn light peeks over the tropical foliage.

Exploring the nearby carved river caves across from our beach camp.

Hunting for New Zealand jade along the Arahaura river, we came across a Smurf village.

Fading colours by the Arahaura valley.

Rock'n'Wood ranch. Taming wild stallions before breakfast. Git'er'dun!

Back just in time

We arrived back from our tramp just in time for harvest at the vinyard. These are merry days with laughing through the leaves, roasts with fine wines, imported reserve scotch, and guitar by a crackling fire. And if that wasn't enough, late night at Bally and Bianca's turned into dance drumming chocolate fests until European soccer finals came on at 4:40am. Many thanks to Jim and Anne for keeping us with their lovely Ostler family!

Seasons change. Finally we get to see some autumn colors.

Down the rows, bay by bay, two for the bucket, one for me!

Perfect pinot.

Where the wild things are

With our stunt double in place and our van ready and waiting, we escaped the fast times and cool company of Dunedin's Valley Kids Crew. We still had more than half the island to see and were getting itchy feet. No really, Justin has foot fungus. Our refuge was by Kurow, the little house in the shire with Bally and Bianca. They perscribed the perfect remedy, a tramp up the Hopkins River above Lake Ohau, and some lavender-garlic infused oil for Justin's feet. 6 days in the woods should set us right, even if the weather wasn't looking bright and sunny.

Stunt double.

Beginning the Hopkins Valley exploration, except that we can't really see what we're heading into. Tighten your packs.

The weather looks dodgy, but our sense of adventure overrides.

Awake to a snow-dusted scene....brrr...motivating huh?

Weather lets up as we approach the dark forest.

Trees take on Ben.

Ben takes on tree.

Purple fungus.

People fungus.

Just when you think you've made it to the top...they throw the 'ol wet sketchy rope tied to a rotting tree gag.

Pbph! Knackered after a 600M ascent.

Over the river and through the woods...actually it's across the spill of a waterfall and to the tiny little hut with barely enough room for two.

Above the treeline, below the summit, the only sound around is that of a waterfall on the other side of the valley

Cloudsburst shadows the braided river floor