Post ten - Australia

     The next day we moved on, making our turn back toward the north island. We traveled through green stone country, where jade abounded. Pancaked rocks emerged from the sea. Most bridges were very conservative. Single lanes, honk before you start across, with a railroad track down the middle. No need to spend all that money on exotic bridges, just use it to buy more sheep. Many public facilities, gas pumps, etc. were antique-like. Like we had in America 50 years ago, or more. We found  a motel near the Franz Joseph Glacier, the only glacier in the world that close to the equator, and it reached down almost to the sea, but, like ours, it was receding fast. Barbara was tired, so I drove in to the glacier area alone, and walked the last mile or so. I picked up a young British hitch hiker who accompanied me. He was typical of hundreds of young people from around the world who, usually after graduating college, took a year or two and backpacked  around the world. Most backpacker facilities, and there were many, provided a bed in a large room filled with beds,  but we found that most had a few private rooms for old fogies like us, providing privacy at a little higher price. However, we almost never, or actually never, ran into more old “backpackers.” They often grouped up and bought an old, old car to travel in, then when ready to leave, tried to sell it, then if not successful, often just drove it off into a quarry. Local newspapers complained about the the quarries filling up.

     The next day, we arrived at Pincton, the jumping off place for the ferry back to the north island.  We went to make arrangement for the ferry crossing the next day. The nice lady told us to “Just look for the big blue chicken sign.” When we could see no sign of a chicken, we had to come back and inquire further. Finally, we figured out we were looking for a “Check-in” sign. More than a month here, and the local accents were still giving us fits!

      We checked in at the Villa Backpacker's Motel, billed as the nicest one in New Zealand. Hundreds of young people. Once again, no other old people. Many of the European women walked around with almost nothing on. So, I had to apply what one of my pastor's had told me years ago. “If you look at immodest women, you risk going blind. So, if you must look, cover one eye. Only risk one.” We stayed up late and visited with many people from all over the world.  Most could speak English.

     We boarded the ferry at 7 AM, sure enough, right under the big, blue, “check-in” sign. It was a long voyage, hours. As always, Barb gathered crowds of New Zealanders around her, and we talked about lots of things, and learned much. We griped about their accents, they griped about ours. One man joked with Barbara for her pronunciation of  “bird.” He tried to say it like her and drug out the word into “buuurd”. She asked him how he says it. “Beard,” he said.

     “Beard? That's not bird. You're talking about hair on your face!” They roared.

      Another asked her, “Let me get this straight. If you are drinking water in the middle of the winter, would you still put ice in it?“

     “Yes, of course.”

     “Why?”

     “That's just what we do.” That went back and forth a long time. They enjoyed our “blue chicken” story. Barb's gift for gab is always a  major asset to our travels. She will just not let anyone be reserved around her. Quickly, they will be laughing and talking like best friends. One New Zealand lady helped her with a crossword puzzle.

     But we have been warned. Our international spy friend we  hung out with in Austria, a couple of years later, told Barb when we parted, “You travel far too lightly about the world. People will entrap you. You should never have let me into your car yesterday.“

     Barbara informed him we had him outnumbered.

     He informed her he was not worried. He waved Barbara’s camera off, allowing no pics. No e-mail address. No mailing address. But, he said, “ I will e-mail you.“ We’re still waiting.

    

     We unloaded from the ferry at Wellington, the capital, in a driving rain. We took in the Te Papa Museum, saw the Capital Building, and as I hate strange city driving in the rain, we headed on up the island. We were getting into a very volcanic region. We drove for miles along a very large lake that we could barely see across, that was formed by a giant volcanic explosion. We knew this part of the country just had a very thin crust over unimaginable volcanic power potential. I just hope we get past it before it struts its stuff. We passed a bad but not fatal car wreck, and the country is so remote there it was thirty minutes before we met an ambulance coming to the scene. We almost passed a waterfall sign, but decided to go back and see it. We have came upon some amazing sights by accident in our travels, and this was no exception. Beautiful aqua blue water, covered with foam, poured over the huge cliff. The water came from the large volcanic lake we had been passing.