Winded In Wellington

Well, it's already been a few weeks, again. You know, life on the road is so rough - no internet, iPods always low on battery, a cell phone usually without a signal... But we're not complaining, don't get us wrong! Sitting here in a fancy YHA backpackers hostel in the NZ capital, Wellington, with all its amazing comforts that rival those of a fine hotel, we are reminded of how wonderful the camping life is. We have a car, a tent, 2 sleeping bags, a box full of canned food and an amazing country to explore on our own schedule. Hostels are for pussies! (Well, ok - we need them for an occasional hot shower and recharging of all those batteries. And they're pretty cool!)
Anyway, we've finally made it to the south of the North Island and the city we've heard so much about. We arrived in Wellington last night and haven't seen much yet, but we love it already. It's smaller, funkier, artsier and all main museums are free! But we are not staying this time - we have the whole South Island to explore and only a month and a half left! Wellington is the gateway between the two islands because of its ferry services, so we will have to come back this way after our southern adventure and that's when we'll explore this lovely city. We are heading down south tomorrow on a Bluebridge ferry to Picton and we will have to immediately find work again in the wine country around there. By now we're both proud owners of a seasonal work permit and a tax ID number, so we're legal and eager to make a buck again.

Speaking of work, I didn't mention much about our orchard work in Hawke's Bay around Hastings - you can imagine why. It wasn't all that exciting - we toiled 9 hours a day picking Royal Galas and Galaxies, breathing dust and getting sunburned. The apples were delicious, but the work was monotonous and back-breaking. The first day nearly killed us, but it got easier with each new day and at the end it was just boring. We were staying at Nathan's and Hanka's with the intention of finding free camping in the area, but there was no free camping and by the time we established that, we were done with picking, so we camped out in their backyard the whole time anyway. Which was great because we desperately needed hot shower and good sleep every night. After just over a week, we got some bad weather and cancelled days at work, so we took this opportunity to get out of Dodge and go hide where apples don't grow... We decided to stop picking early and camp out while we wait for our tax ID to get paid and get the hell out.

The first night we camped illegally on the lovely Waipatiki Beach just about an hour north of Napier. It's a perfect sandy beach tucked in between two massive rock bluffs hidden from the main roads by miles of sheep pastures and pine forest. The early morning was glorious - sun was lighting up one of the bluffs to a warm golden color, seagulls were running around on the sand, foamy surf was rolling in with a constant thunder. And we were there alone with only two other illegal campers. Aaahh. This is the life! Camping, not hostels!

After this we drove further back north and further away from the coast on a frighteningly winding road to a free camp site at lake Tutira. It was a lovely place - we picked a site right on the bank and immediately had a welcoming committee of four graceful black swans greeting us. The swans, together with ducks, herons and the wonderfully goofy-looking and talkative pukekos were daily visitors to our site. The pukekos provided a real show - they're blue and black hen-like birds with extremely long and gangely legs and a very nosy and loud personality. They must have the funniest gait in animal kingdom when they hurry - they sprint in these super long strides while their heads bob forward and backward. They look like carton characters!

The area around the lake was all pasture land with some easy walks, so the next day we decided to go on the longest one of them. We figured that after Tongariro Crossing, this would be a 4-hour piece of cake and so we didn't even notice the heavy wind that was blowing off the lake towards the hills that morning. I mean, we noticed that it was hard to start a fire on the gas stove to make our coffee, but we didn't think much of it. We should have.

We followed some sheep trails for the first half hour and then ascended the quaint pasture hills while passing cows and sheep and climbing over countless wire fences. It was lovely - and windy. The wind was getting fiercer the higher we got, as the air was being obviously funneled up the hills in these large wind tunnels. The aspen and cedar trees were roaring in the wind and our hats were being blown off. We took pictures of sheep with their looks full of suspicion that we are about to run after them with butcher knives and continued slowly up the trail. On one hill top we were laughing and filming ourselves leaning against the wind. It was good fun with a splendid view. The sheep were like: "What the hell are you doing out here, silly humans?"

Then we continued up more hills. This time wind was starting to push us upwards and the trees were looking like they might start shedding branches on top of our heads. We reached another peak and this time (our hats were already packed away), the wind was hard to face. We held on to a pole and were blasted by winds with probably 50mph force. It was harder to see and hear now with dust pummeling us like needles and my hair whipping my eyeballs. When Ryan's sunglasses were blown off his head, all I saw was him disappear after them like a little ball of tumbleweed being thrown in a storm. When I let go of the pole and made a step to follow him, I was tumbling, too. Uncontrollably, with the gale-force wind pushing me forward, I was sprinting downhill towards a barbed-wire fence and I knew I couldn't stop myself unless I threw myself into the cow and sheep shit, which is exactly what I did. That's when I thought to myself: "This is not funny anymore."

By now it was apparent to us that we were too far to go back and this was getting a little too dangerous to mess around. So we had to push on - half blind and half deaf - towards the edge of the hill where the trail took us, unbelievably, right to the side of a steep and high cliff. Holding on with both hands to the slope on our right (and grabbing thorny weeds in the process), we continued carefully on a trail no wider than one foot and hoped the wind wouldn't turn and blow us off the mountain, instead of pinning us to it. The easiest walk was a struggle and the emptiness only inches away was really unnerving. I was scared and couldn't get off that damned hill fast enough...

To be continued...