No planes but trains and boats

Apolgies for the blogs all coming along like busses (none and then loads) but we've been a wee bit busy what with one thing and another. Any way this blog actually happened yesterday...

oh and pictures may be a bit thin on the ground as internet connection so slow at the YHA will edit and post pictures tommorrow...

Yes, we made it to the station on time. We took the Transcoastal Train from Christchurch to the InterIslander ferry at Picton. The train went through some beautiful parts and we got to see some sights in particular as it followed the coast at Kaikora. Standouts were seeing Dolphins leaping in Kaikora Bay (big tick there), big fat seals sunning themselves on rocks and the salt pans at Lake Grassmere – never knew they were red. The views were stunning – what else did we expect. Happy holiday makers waving at us all the way, except for the grumpy ones that pretended that they hadn’t seen the train of demented wavers. The train was old but serviceable, it had those connecting bits between the carriages and the doors that slammed themselves on your fingers if you weren’t careful (yeah Jenn – even after the safety announcement when we was told to be careful). The buffet car was just like home – all day wangy English breakfast muffins and toasted cheese sandwiches and the vilest coffee imaginable all at an extraordinary price. Home from home.

At the front of the train was an open air viewing carriage. There was a casual warning about keeping your parts and equipment in the carriage and not leaning out due to: vegetation, rock faces, tunnels and other bits and bobs. We had to remind Barney on a few occasions that his head was not necessarily the best bit on his body to lose.

The Interislander Ferry was a treat. It was called The Kaitai formerly known as The Pride of Cherbourg (ex of P&O Ferries). Sean and Jenn were convinced they’d sailed on it across the British Channel. It was exactly as all cross channel ferries are. Except in New Zealand the foot passengers board by walking across the car decks, whilst they are loading. Interesting.

We did what we always do and head for the outside. Have we written about the wind yet? Have we mentioned that it’s windy here? Well we take it all back. That wasn’t wind that was just a light breeze. IT was fairly stiffly windy out of Queen Charlotte Sound (very picturesque and sort of fiordy), then the wind really picked up as we moved out into Cooke Straight and then it really started to blow as we moved into Wellington Harbour. There was people blowing about everywhere, people were losing their chips, children sunglasses, hair and dignity. So of course Barney and Sean just had to edge themselves to the rails holding on, clothes and hair streaming out with the wind so strong that they were unable to breath properly and their cheeks were flapping like a couple of spacemen hitting max warp. Great fun.

We all give the whole days travelling a great big thumbs up. It was really enjoyable experience – if you ever come here you should do it!

We decided that even on our paupers budget we were not going to suffer the shuttle bus and hobbling through the street with all our luggage so we splurged and took a taxi. Even though we knew the $20 was on the steep side it was worth every cent. Door to door of the YHA.

Even better the YHA had a New World (think Sainsburies) over the road. Jenn and Sean went for a forage and their eyes were on stalks after months of privations in the South we was surrounded by falafels and organic food and shelves and shelves overflowing with shiny glossy produce. It was a bit like Christmas. Any way after tea the YHA laid on some entertainment in the form of a fire alarm. So out we shuffled obediently outside whilst a number of the younger more recalcitrant guests lingered unsure in the dining area. Hiding in a sheltered spot trying to avoid the wind Jack steps outside and notices that the firestation was just 50 meters away down the end of the road. Suddenly we are all out on the pavement watching the firestation lights flashing and the firemen jumping around into various bits of equipment and engines and the doors opening and the engines coming rushing out sirens blazing up the 50 meter stretch of empty road screeching to halt outside the hostel to the sounds of cheers and claps from the occupants. Several embarrased looking firemen jump out of the engines, one of whom, probably the boss one, not looking happy at all probably bored from having to do this several times a week no doubt. Anyway it was a false alarm and we were all allowed back in quite quickly.

However it turned out that our next door neighbours were a mixed bunch of lads of lack beared age (danes, Swedes, Germans and a couple of isrelis) having a beer and a bit of a party before heading out on the town. Graons from Jenn and Sean as the voices got louder and the music got louder. Jenn gave up and knocked firmly on the door and then said sweetly if you are having a party could you turn it down or take it downstairs? Nice boys apologised and the music was down. And then they went out for their evenings entertainment.

We all slept soundly.