From Sea to Ice

My last wwoofing adventure ended with sea kayaking the Abel Tasman coast. I stayed with a german hippie named Richard Lochner, and worked above the normal wwoofing requirements in exchange for a weekend of travel through the beautiful coastline of New Zealands smallest park.

I laughed to myself when I cruised out of an estuary. "Its the only way to see the park mate," exclaimed Richard when I pushed off. Life was beautiful, and in the Golden Bay, the sun never stopped shining. A seal escorted me for a while, and I camped on a golden sand beach in Mutton Cove. In the morning I puttered along and watched another seal chom down on an octopus.

Opposed to riding New Zealands longest sustained climb twice, (15 km long, 800m tall over Takaka Hill) and backtracking 2 days, I took a bus to the West Coast. I have been quite apprehensive about this journey down the 'Wet Coast' with over 5000mm of rain annualy. So far I have seen about .05 mm HA. Maybe its global warming, or I am one lucky chap, but the sun is shining and I am booking it south.



One of the many spectacular attractions in New Zealand- The Pancake Rocks. Similar to gigantic stacks of flap jacks, this section of quirky coast boasts boisterious blow holes and hoardes of tourists. It was worth the gaggle.



Approximately 4 days south of golden sand beaches, I am approaching the Franz Josef and Fox Glaciers. Above is a sight from a spectacular camping spot where I started crocheting a scarf amongst the sandflies and dastardly Possums, that rooted through my belongings all night long.