Picton - Gateway to the South (disputed with Balham, S London)

We came over to South Island on Sunday. There was a bit of a cock up on the booking, and somehow we'd managed to get the time and day right, but were two weeks adrift on the date. Fortunately there was space and the kind gentleman doing the checking-in let us on once everyone else was loaded. As someone who gets seasick on any ferry crossing over an hour, I wasn't really looking forward to it as I'd heard that the Cook Strait can be a bit rough. Apart from a bit in the middle, it was fine and the last hour involves coming along Queen Charlotte Sound by a fairly tortuous route and close in to the shore - glad the captain hadn't been taking lessons from the Italians.

Rocks near the entry to Queen Charlotte Sound

Nearing Picton

We drove inland throught the Marlborough winegrowing region without stopping - (we hope to do some wine tasting later) - along the Wairau River valley - Sarah's and my favourite wine is Wairau Cove, but we didn't see it - it must be a small part of Cloudy Bay.

We camped at a campsite at the edge of Lake Rotoiti in the Nelson Lakes National Park for two nights. We were virtual prisoners in our own tent due to the biting insects. See Ian's comment below on sandflies!

Lake Rotoiti

It's a fairly rugged area, reminiscent of parts of the Lake District (but higher mountains) and the Alps. Some of the hills had suffered pretty dreadful erosion as a result of deforestation by sheep farmers in the late 19th C. This is now being gradually being reversed by new planting but the appearance of some of the hills is strikingly similar to parts of the Lake District, which made us think that the same thing had probably happened there, but a couple of thousand years earlier.

The first day we climbed a peak called Mount Robert with good views of the lake. We did rather wish we'd booked a hut and gone for a 2 day walk which would have taken us deeper into the region, but hindsight is a wonderful thing. Mt. Robert is a tiddler in these parts but still as high as Ben Nevis.

Ian with Lake Rotoiti behind during Mt. Robert ascent

For scenery and good paths, the walk compared well with anything in the UK and probably in the European Alps. If it lacked anything it was something at the beginning or end. By 'something' I am thinking specifically of a little hamlet of houses, nestling in a valley and a friendly pub offering food and drink to weary walkers. Having taken off my rose-tinted glasses however I can now see that the cottages are mainly holiday lets or second homes, the home-made-style cooking means burger and chips, and the beer has not been kept as well as it should have been. We'll call it a draw for now.

Today we were moving on to Nelson so had only half day to play with. We decided to take a look at L. Rotoroa, which is set in another beautiful valley surrounded by even bigger mountains than the previous day's. We will have to take the Lonely Planet's word for this though as the low cloud refused to lift. The sandflies by the lake surpassed even those at the campsite and we were pleased to get away though they got ito the car wth us and continued to bite as w drove away.

Tonight we are sleeping in a bed in a really nice backpackers' lodge in Nelson. Previous plans to camp in S Island are now under review!

A Note on Sandflies

The life of a sandfly is mean, brutish and short. OK, I made up the first two but I am pretty certain about the third. In a typical New Zeland sandfly family the chance to suck human blood might come up every thousand generations, so they could be forgiven for being so eager to bite. Could be forgiven, but haven't been, at least not by us; they have made life on the campsite in St Arnaud a real trial. If I had my way, I would seed the place with some voracious carnivorous plants and teach the little bastards a lesson. That's not the way things are done in NZ though, at least, not any more.

Visiting Aussies as well as an Auckland barrister, have made light of our plight. According to them if a bite doesn't feel like you've just stopped a bullet, then it wasn't a real sandfly. Having said that, Bushman, which claims to be the most effective sandfly deterrent is made in Australia. Clearly they are not all Crocodile Dundees down under. Anyway, the real hard men of old didn't have this stuff and rubbed on paraffin instead - and we are not talking about the white, waxy emollient used in skin cream. It crossed my mind that 'Don't play with those matches round Daddy, Son' may have been the last words for many Kiwis. Makes a change from 'I think I'm feeling a bit better, doctor' I suppose.