Back to reality, the big hike holiday is over
This time four weeks ago, I was telling you about our first week away!
Kia ora fam, hey whānau! The travelling is over and we’re back in Nelson. Just in time for a newly-formed New Zealand government, conflict in the Middle East turning Threads into Twitter 2.0, another stake in the ground for the far right in Europe, Black Friday and the much-mocked (un)rebranding of Countdown back to Woolworths.
The days are passing by and I keep doing that post-holiday thing where you say “this time three weeks ago, we were…”, partly in disbelief, as it only feels like two weeks ago, and partly in an effort to hold on to the physical and emotional feeling of doing whatever awesome thing was now three weeks ago.
It was an amazing trip and this is still an amazing country to explore. There was a fair slice of ‘Memory Lane’, this being my first time back in Southland since the The Big Loop. I’ll admit, the bike ride left me under the impression I’d done it all, seen it all and experienced it all. Wrong! Our journey served a gentle nudge that this is not possible. I haven’t even scratched the surface.
Little blue penguin parade
For instance, before this trip, I’d seen a total of one kororā (little blue penguin) clamber ashore at Oamaru. It was dark and I could barely make out its outline. This time, we watched a D-Day landing of them on the beach, an army of them running up the sand at dusk. They reached the rocks at the top and stalled. They were waiting for something. After some minutes, one of them tried the locked sheet metal gates that lead to the road and walkway where we were stood. They swung partly open, until the chain and padlock halted them, but the gap at the bottom was enough. Three of them sidled under and waddled into a nearby park. A band was practicing loudly in a nearby warehouse, but unperturbed, the trio kept going across the grass in the same general direction.
“Are they going to the pub?” we wondered. They certainly knew where they were going. Every so often, they would stop, in what appeared to be a pre-designated hiding place: behind a pile of old rail tracks or beside a concrete wall. There, they would squawk to the other penguins, presumably to signal whether or not the coast was clear. Eventually, the lead party crossed the road, ducked under a parked car, hid behind a flower planter, before sneaking into Harbour Street. That, it turned out, is where their flat is. I kid you not, they all live under an old building in town.
The first party to arrive hid under the wooden steps at the front of the building and began squawking on 11. Eventually, another small bunch of them arrived and the first lot disappeared under the building. This process continued for about twenty minutes until… we got bored. Yeah, actually, they were still going, loading the underside of the old livery and stable with penguins, when we got too cold and left. I like to think some snuck out to the pub after we’d gone.
Two Great Walks
Nothing in your inbox last week (I appreciate all the emails of thanks!) as it got to Thursday night and I realised “dang, it’s Thursday night!”. I got up early on Friday and began scribbling, but couldn’t get anything I wanted to send you down in time. Akaroa wasn’t going to visit itself, now.
Here’s what I did eventually, this week, get together. It’s my comparison of two southern Great Walks: Rakiura Track, on Stewart Island, and Milford Track, in Fiordland.
Rakiura Track vs Milford Track
Kia ora, hello and welcome from Little River Campground, found near the gateway to Banks Peninsula and lovely little town I discovered during my NZ cycle circumnavigation: Little River, in Canterbury. We’re making our way back up the motu (island) now, due back in Nelson this Sunday.
Giving the Trangia spirit burner a hoon
About 13 years ago, my parents got me a Trangia 27 UL stove set. Rather than the brass spirit burner Trangias are known for, this one came with a gas burner and the path was laid for me to become a gas-burning camper.
That is until now, when by stroke of pure luck (preparation), I happened to bring the old spirit burner my Dad gave me in 2019 on our trip. Calling in at Four Square, Franz Josef, the store had both those standard gas cartridges and one litre bottles of meths for $9. I grabbed the liquid fuel and didn’t look back.
Three-and-a-half weeks later and we still haven’t finished the bottle. This tells me that either a) liquid fuel is somehow more efficient than gas or b) we stayed at DOC huts and holiday parks too much for this to be a fair test.
In either case, the peaceful nature of a meths flame, gently licking away at the bottom of a metal kettle far outweighs the agro racket of an early morning Jet Boil.
I want to look into this further and will publish my findings here in the future. Please send your spirit burner facts, thoughts, feelings, recipes and culinary delights!
‘Til next time, adventurers!
Dunc x
精彩的旅程