Arrival and Departure

Okay, so I may have lied a little bit in my last blog. Yes, it was 2 friends who traveled. Yes, we really did drive 2000 kilometers. And, yes, we did really take over 700 pictures. (We were a little trigger happy. I will trim it down for your viewing.) But, in reality, we were travel partners for 13 days. I wasn't counting Leslie's arrival and departure days. Yet they add to the adventure and story...

From the very beginning of my arrival in New Zealand, a close friend of mine from Seattle was determined to make the trans-Pacific journey to visit me. She, Leslie, decided September would be the perfect time since it marked the month and year of her 30th birthday. Really, good you beat celebrating such a monumental event in the land of wine and beauty? She arrived on a Monday morning after 19 hours of travel, looking relatively refreshed. First stop: a local cafe for a cuppa. She had to be inaugurated into the kiwi culture. After touring the shops of New Plymouth (we are females after all, we're bound to shop), we settled for a late lunch at the museum cafe overlooking the coast. Enjoying our first, of many, glasses of New Zealand wine we planned out travel attack for the next day. Destination: South Island.

Miraculously Leslie managed to stay awake until the late hour of 9pm. With a 19 hour time difference, it felt like 2am to this Seattlite. After some last minute packing (including the numerous types of cheese purchased at the local dairy), we were out the door twelve hours later heading south to Wellington to catch the Interislander Ferry. A large vessel by Washington ferry standards, it carries a surprisingly small number of passenger vehicles. Space is occupied by the larger semi-trucks that rely on this shuttle service to transport goods across the country. Given it's large size, the vessel is relatively stable. In rough waters, all bets are off. While neither of us are prone to sea sickness, our vestibular sensors were maximally tested on this first voyage across Cook Strait.

We managed to arrive safely (after consuming a few carbonated beverages to settle the gastric juices) and drove the short 20 minute leg from Picton to our first nights stay in Blenheim, the heart of Marlborough wine country. As the clouds parted, giving sight to the last rays of the setting sun and the first of many arching rainbows, we fell into bed with visions of cellar doors dancing in our heads...