Oh no.

Looks like we're a little behind on blogging. I guess there's probably a lot to catch up on. Because I'm working on a time and money budget from one of the expensive internet cafes that can't be avoided in New Zealand, I'll just give a short update on my most recent events:

After a VERY sad goodbye to Megan at the Sydney airport, Mel and I returned Steve, the slightly beloved rental car and hopped on a plane to return to NZ. It's funny how I view flying after this type of traveling. Plane flights are always exciting, but usually a little bit of a pain. You're kinda cramped and would rather be cooking your own food than eating the stuff they serve. Not anymore. The idea of sitting on a plane and watching free movies and getting (what seem like) free meals is luxury to us. Mel and I were pretty excited.

I'm not sure what we did for the frist three days we were in Christchurch... I think it involved a lot of internet time searching for jobs and other chores like that. Either way, before we knew it, the morning of the 18th came and it was time to go pick Justin up from the airport. Justin did a pretty good job of immediately fitting into our lifestyles here. I think he genuinely considered Mel's offer to let him drive away from the airport on our way to Takaka.

We arrived in Takaka, home of one of our favorite climbing spots on the South Island, Paynes Ford, and one of our favorite camping spots, Hang Dog. Hang Dog is an amazing place, all the climbing you could ever want to do is a short walk from the campsite, there are two AMAZING swimming holes on the way back to camp from the climbing. The first swimming spot has multiple rope swings, rocks to jump from, and a couple of climbing routes that you can do over the water without a rope. Heaven. The second has more jumping spots, wonderful rocks to lounge out on, and a slackline set up over the water. Heaven, once again. The campsite has loads of friendly people, more slacklines, a bonfire at night, and a few potlucks thrown in here and there. From camp you can borrow one of the bikes and ride into town. Bike riding is one of the main things all of us miss from home, it feels really good to get on a bike and cruise into town with the paddocks behind you and the gorgeous mountains in the distance. In town there are GREAT cafes and restaurants to visit. Pastries to eat, coffee to drink. We were at Paynes for six days, I think. We managed to climb ourselves silly while still making time for all of the other goodies the place has to offer. Being there feels similar to being on a cruise ship or a Club Med vacation. You wake up in the morning with no responsibilities or obligations but somehow feel like you have a lot of things to do. It's hard to fit in all the climbing, biking, swimming, eating, and laughing in just six days.

So the wonder team (Mel, Justin, and myself) left Hang Dog and headed to Nelson, our point of separation. When we reached the highway, Mel and Connie headed east to go find a job working at a winery. Justin and I found ourselves on the side of the road hitching rides west to Greymouth for the night. Hitchhiking in New Zealand is wonderful. The people who pick us up have been, without exception, great. We've had some great conversations with Kiwis, travelers, and quite a few people who have moved here from other countries. We usually don't have to wait very long for a ride, although there have been a few times that have taken close to an hour. Justin and I manage to entertain ourselves fairly well, we do a lot of laughing, singing, dancing, and recently we've been working on our juggling skills. We try to keep all of that to a minimum when there are cars in sight, somehow I feel like people will be less inclined to pick us up if we look like we're trying out for the circus. Maybe I'm wrong though.

From Greymouth we headed out to Castle Hill, a famous bouldering spot in the mountains between Christchurch and the west coast. It was beautiful, absolutely magnificent. Bouldering (climbing shorter distances without ropes) isn't really my thing so I mainly spent my time there walking around or reading. You could probably lose yourself in the scenery for weeks on end if given the chance.

Camping near Castle Hill is pretty similar to Hang Dog. I think the same people visit the two, it's just a matter of who you catch in which spot. There is a slackline set up, communal areas to cook in, and a great community of people who gather around in communal areas after the long hard day of climbing is over. Instead of swimming holes there is the famous cave stream, a quarter mile or so of cave that's been dug out by a stream (go figure). We went through there with a group of 10 or so people from the Craigieburn campground. Our group looked like you would probably imagine a bunch of climbers to, barefeet, Chacos, old running shoes, old shorts, and a few shirtless guys. There were other groups there who came with guiding companies outfitted to the max: gaiters, waterproof clothing, hiking boots, helmets. Definitely a funny comparison.

Ok it's my turn to shower, so I'll let Justin finish the rest of this description:

Now that I've completely wrecked this poor hostel's bathroom shaving, cleaning underwear and washing grass from our toiletries, I hear it's my turn to guest post on the blog.

Let's see. Craigieburn was phenomenal, but completely in the boonies. About 50km from the nearest town in either direction, Christy and I had to be smart about the groceries and fuel we brought there. We weren't. By day two we were downing handfuls of dry muesli and currents, making lentils with carrots (very orange) for dinner and when we ran out of fuel, cheese sandwiches.

The climbing at Castle Hill is bizarre. Famous for mantels, stems and the other bodily contortions its boulder problems require, I came to question - as I gruntingly shimmied my way on top a rock I might have jumped onto with a running start - whether what I was doing could really be called a sport. How could I justify this ridiculous stone lovemaking to an outsider? With me existentially troubled and scraped all over my torso, Christy out of the action because she prefers sport climbing to bouldering and both of us tired of eating like livestock, we decided to hit the road.

Retracing our steps through Arthur's pass out to (oh my god I'm horrible with indiginous names) Hokitika we continued to enjoy the wonderful weather. A cream cheese and apricot sauce pizza at Hokitika's Fat Pipi's had us both acting like we'd just returned from a desert island. It was, by any standard, a delicious pizza and the place has received a ton of rave reviews. Christy and I recommended it for days, "Oh your headed to Christchurch? Well let me tell you about this little pizza place just 350km out of your way."

After a great night camping with a British couple who fed us ginger beer and spoke of their travels as scuba dive guides, currently married and with two cute girls, we made our way along the sand-fly infested west coast inchingly. Stuck in Franz Joseph for maybe the longest time yet Christy caught up on the cell phone and I juggled roadside rocks for potential rides finally charming a couple of German girls into picking us up and driving all the way to Wanaka.

Our first night in Wanaka we were luckily directed to a "free" campsite by a local (if Christy has told you it was free she has since eaten her words - more on this in a bit) where we left our tent and packs the next day a trip out the hospital flats crag. Alas, here our weather luck runs out. The first Wanaka rain in nearly two months sent Christy back into town and me on a suicidal hike up Mount Roy. Christy had warned me that the hike was miserable, but with cold almost sleeting rain, Chacos on my feet, no rain jacket and nothing to eat, I've since had to make room for Mount Roy in my top ten most miserable outdoor experiences - congratulations Mount Roy. After spending too much time sandaled and among the sandflies and completing this hike we thought my feet picture worthy:

I was reminded of my father's medical magazines which always saved the juiciest skin disease for the cover and found their way to the kitchen counter where they could be conveniently contemplated before a meal.

The next day and every day since we have made it to the hospital flats area and done some fantastic climbing each of us notching some personal records (Christy's first 20, holla! almost my first 26). The weather has been great and we've had time to enjoy the town - a movie at Cinema Paradiso, burger at Red Star, food and coffee at the cafes. Two angry visits from the park ranger later we're on the lam and continuing south.

Alright, back to Christy now. So it appears we've been surviving the sand flies, park rangers, various weather patterns, and, maybe most impressively, each other. Justin has had to dodge more than one fireball from me trying to light his temperamental stove, we're all hoping he survives the rest of the trip. We've been having a great time traveling though. Nightly dancing while brushing our teeth, taking turns using the broken spoon, attempting to fend off the crazy possums that eat all of our food, and the hilarious trips we take around the grocery store with a shopping cart filled with our backpacks (climbing gear, sleeping bags and pads, cooking stuff, tent, hiking shoes, running shoes, and climbing shoes, etc. take up A LOT of room) and other stuff have all become habit. I'll try to get in another update soon.