Where's Spring?

G'day Mates (as they say here)

For those of you who keep up on Susan's Blog (http://360.yahoo.com/newkiwisue) will know we recently received the fantastic news of our permanent residence. I couldn't be happier or more relieved for our finally becoming official Kiwis. It's been over a year since we applied but our perseverance paid off and now its all good. In retrospect I'm still not sure we would have been able to do it without our immigration consultant's help - E-Migration Ltd. and their invaluable help, but it doesn't much matter as things eventually worked out for the best.
The other great news was Susan getting a job as relief reporter for the Nelson Mail, the local paper that also publishes other publications for the region. Finally she will be able to utilize her prodigious talents and contribute to this country that has been so good for us. She'll start in a few weeks and I'm sure she will shine. As for me, I have an interview tomorrow with New Zealand Post - the people who deliver the mail and operate the Post Shops. I'll be tested on my ability to sort the mail and if I don't completely screw it up I may have a part time job! WooHoo! This is also a relief position so I'll be called in when they need extra hands or to cover for those sick or on holiday. The mail center is about a 3 minute drive from home here in Brittania Heights so I may be able to ride my bike to work. I hear the job will be physically demanding but you know me "strong like bull, smart like stone."

Bill Of Rights Pared Down To A Manageable Six | The Onion - America's Finest News Source

Bill Of Rights Pared Down To A Manageable Six | The Onion - America's Finest News Source
Thought you all might enjoy this...


If you contact me at jbgsz@xtra.co.nz I'll try to answer any questions you have about New Zealand, Cheers.

Winter of our Content

Just when I think I've found a favorite season here in NZ the next one is even more beautiful! We are now into late fall and what with the leaves changing, the beautiful fall light, angle of the sun and clear, crisp days I think this now is my new favorite season. The nights can get quite cold but we just throw another shrimp on the barbie... er, hmmm, that's not quite right... throw a wool blanket on the bed and we're just fine. The days warm up quite nicely, usually around 55-65 degrees and we continue our daily walks. Now that the tourist season is over life, it seems, has returned to normal in the city with far fewer cars and many less slack-jawed gawkers. I can appreciate the boon to the city economy tourism has but also feel, like most Nelsonians, that life seems better without the locusts.

This last week we took a camping trip to the Marlborough Sounds, about 2 hours north-east of here and had a wonderful time. The Sounds are hundreds of inlets and bays flanked by steep mountains that drop almost vertically into the sea and with only two roads in and out, much of the Sounds are inaccessible unless you backpack in and out. We managed to find a nice campsite on the shores of Cowshed Bay, pitched our tent and managed to survive the wet and frosty nights. We took a 4 hour tramp along the Queen Charlotte track and were again impressed with the variety of flora and fauna, including whole forests of mammoth Ponga trees. At one point we were high on a ridge with deep blue bays on both sides and although pictures rarely do justice to what things actually look like, I've included some anyway. Susan did her usual spectacular job of fashioning delicious meals on our camp stove and the highlight for me was a nice campfire on the last evening. Maybe the best part of the trip was NO BUGS!

The band has had more gigs and we are becoming quite solid in performing some of the more difficult and exacting jazz tunes. The original name of the trio was “Pacifica” which I rather liked but Allan, the bassist thought a better name would be Snazz (Simply Nelson Jazz) and as he is the resident Kiwi in the group we decided to go with his instincts. Strange, I know, but when in Rome...
We recorded a 5 song demo and are now shopping it around to hopefully pick up some more work. We've also submitted it to the Nelson Jazz Club which are the jazz music Nazis here in town but if they like it we are guaranteed gigs at the Victorian Rose and Pub which is THE place for live jazz here in Nelson. I also seem to be in another band called “The Fishermen” and am looking forward to performing with them although now that winter is upon us many venues are scaling back on live music. They called and asked me to audition after seeing my “Guitarist, Escaped From America, looking for work” sign in the local music stores. They do some nice original music but mostly pop/rock tunes including “Proud Mary” and “Sweet Home Alabama” which I've already informed them I would refuse to play. I may be a musical whore but there are limits...

Our residency is moving inexorably closer to fruition and has actually sped up since moving our application from London (UK) to Christchurch here in NZ. Susan needed some additional medical tests and once those are submitted we may be close to the final interview. As the death toll in Iraq and Afghanistan mounts, GW bush's murderous deceptions multiply, the Democratic party's collapse, Gonzalesgate, etc., etc. Susan and I both agree that being ex patriots looks more and more like the right move for us. We've been so pleasantly surprised at how we've been accepted and welcomed by Kiwis and are quite enamored by the tolerance, openness and skepticism of organized religion besides the astonishing beauty and deep devotion to protecting the environment that we find here. Obviously there are problems here but I know I definitely don't regret our move except for the fact of missing our friends, family and Miles and Bessie. What with blogs, email and the webcam we stay in touch with the family and that goes a long way to relieving, somewhat, the homesickness.

That's the news from here and we hope to hear from you soon. So long...

Apparently enough is NOT enough...

Hi all,
Generally this blog is about an American couple's idylls in our adopted home of New Zealand, but recent news around the world has compelled me to talk a bit about the current state of affairs regarding US foreign policy especially as we are now seeing it through the eyes of those whom we live amidst.

Are we as Americans so busy trying to keep our heads above the financial waves that we have no time for activism against this increasingly disheartening and futile war without end in Iraq? Can you "support" the troops and not support the war? To those who look askance and question your patriotism if you're not fully behind the troops, I say "wake up," those men and women volunteered to be there and have no one to blame but themselves. You can't have it both ways, you can't tout an all volunteer army and then bemoan the fate of those whose choice ultimately may put them in harm's way, besides the fact that their own choice put them in a position to take the life of another. Any loss of life is lamentable but can one be honest and admit that the troops chose their path and must accept the consequences of their choice?

And what of the fate of Iraqis? Being a history teacher is both a blessing but mainly, a curse. From time immemorial Mesopotamia has been awash in blood, mostly of the innocent, who have neither the means or inclination to escape those on the warpath for whatever moronic or fallacious reason. Sumerian priests exhorted their captive and captivated followers to smite those "others" deemed dangerous to the city-state. "Deus Vult" has an excruciatingly sad and gory past and present, from Sargon and his ilk, to the Crusades, to G.W. bush who apparently hallucinates that god is blessing his effort to bring US style democracy to biblical eden. One of my favorite headlines from the parody news source "Onion" was "Dead Iraqi Would Have Loved Democracy."

I'm so glad that now in the 21st century we can see through those charlatans who claim to represent god on earth yet advocate violence against those made in his image...
oh wait...
I just checked my bible again and somewhere in the back I found these old chestnuts, "turn the other cheek," "forgive," and "love thine enemies (not exterminate them)." Was Jesus misquoted? Apparently so...

By now I would hope that only the dimmest dittoheads could still be clinging to the WMD fabrication, 9/11 connection, or whatever
perverse lie/rationalization is used to justify the bloodletting that continues. How obscene must the level of war profiteering be to finally compel those millions of kind and decent Americans to rise up in collective angst and rage and say "No More in Our Name." I guess enough is not quite enough...

I know, I'm a slacker...

Hello All,

Sorry I haven't written in a while but, ok, there is really no excuse. As some of you may know I was hired by the George Parkyn Centre for Gifted Education to teach at the first ever Nelson One Day School. Kids who are identified as gifted are excused from their regular school one day a week and meet with others of their ilk in a classroom in Nelson to explore various topics more in depth than they would in their regular school. There is no curriculum except what we decide to study. I had eight 7-9 year olds in this initial class and despite them being very intelligent and articulate they were more than a handful, socially speaking. All my high blown plans went out the window after 10 minutes of the first day and I soon realized that this was not quite what I had envisioned. Along with a lot of "he hit me!" "he pushed me first!" and "Billy is being mean!" and so forth it became clear that these were just little children and I was in no way cut out for the job. Try and imagine herding cats and that was just the tip of the iceberg. I lasted 4 weeks and then resigned. Maybe I'm just burned out after 20 years of teaching but let's just say it was more than I wanted to handle. The people who hired me were more than gracious in letting me out of the contract and were completely understanding, especially when the head teacher came down from Auckland to teach the class and agreed that it was just not working due to the huge disparity in maturity levels, lack of resources and general social skills of some of the more disruptive boys. They will keep me in mind for a possible non-teaching role as I still have much admiration and respect for what they do. Live and learn, I guess...
On a more positive note I hooked up with a German drummer and a Kiwi bass player and have put together a jazz trio playing mostly standards and some more contemporary jazz tunes. We had our first gig at the Prince Albert hotel here in town and by all accounts it went well, at least no one threw anything at us and no one shouted "play something you know!"
so we have that going for us, which is nice. We have another gig lined up so maybe this will be something to keep me out of trouble and put some food on the table. They're both competent musicians who can actually read music and nice fellers so I'll keep you posted on our progress. Most people here in Nelson seem to be fairly discerning jazz aficionados and are appreciative when the music is done right. There's a possibility of playing the Tuesday Jazz Night at the Victorian Rose and Pub, THE place for live jazz in Nelson so that would be good... I was a little worried that my amplifier and effect pedals wouldn't work here given the differences in electrical current, amps and such but I bought a step-down transformer and everything seems to work fine, now if I could only figure out how to play better without practicing I'll be all set.
I successfully gained a NZ driver's license recently and only got one question wrong on the test. The question was how many sheep can you legally put in the front seat, I answered 6 when apparently the answer is 8, oh well... I managed to get the question about which directional signal to use when plunging off a cliff, but to be honest I just guessed... I am now a big fan of round-a-bouts because they make much more sense than having cars lined up polluting the atmosphere waiting to go. As long as there is no one on your right to yield to you can merrily just advance through any intersection, WooHoo! I did get a ticket for going 52kph in a 50kph zone and was caught on camera but it only cost $30 which is like 85 cents US, so that was another valuable lesson learned.
Susan and I continue to enjoy our life here and she will be looking for work as soon as our residence comes through. I'll also be looking for work but hopefully nothing too taxing as I would really prefer something mindless. We are coming into the tail end of summer and love going down to the beach for swimming although one day the tidal current was so strong that despite swimming like mad against the current we could make absolutely no progress, in fact it was almost impossible to stand still upright and we had to make sure we weren't washed out to sea, I thought it was huge fun but you really do have to be careful.
We did take a trip to the North Island and you can check out that story on Susan's 360 Blog page but suffice it to say we both much prefer the South Island as it seems much less crowded, hectic and way more scenic. Auckland is just a big stinky city but we did see some interesting sites along the way including a place called "Craters on the Moon" which was a place with geothermal activity, hot mud bubbling up from the ground and such which was pretty cool and also huge windmills creating electricity.
That's it for now and I'll try and keep up with this blog. Hope you are all well and please leave a comment if you're so inclined, it's always nice to hear from our friends and family back home and those of you with webcams can find us at Skype if you visit jbgsz7010. See you soon...

West Coast Sojourn Jan. 08, 2007 Day One, Monday

Left home early afternoon, heading toward Murchison. Enjoyed the lovely drive through the Buller River Valley, home to herds of sheep, cows and deer. Reminded me of the whole Kiwi deer adventure which had helicopter pilots first carrying live animals out of the high country to valley farms that wanted to establish their own herds, then carrying the dead animals that hunters had shot. Just another business that seemed to have promise (fresh venison on everyone’s world-wide table), but belly-flopped, with just a few deer farms in operation now. They also tried it with Boysenberries, thinking that would be their ticket. Alas, as you know… boysenberry never gained much popularity, although we love them!

Anyway, back to our trip. First stop was the famous Swingbridge just outside Murchison, the longest cable bridge in this wonderful country. Many tourists lined up for the crossing, got a bit too intimate passing on the narrow bridge. Nice short walk through bush on other shoreline, wood walkways, signs and evidence of 1929 earthquake, 7.8 on the richter scale.

Continued on following the Buller river, collecting tributaries along the way to the coast, the wild West Coast! Huge breakers pounding the big, dark rocks and steep beaches. We stopped at a roadside tearoom for sandwiches and …. Duh, tea. Then another tourist treadmill to view a seal colony at Cape Foulwind. Nice name. Captain Cook perceived ill winds off the coast and lots of ships ran afoul of the treacherous waters and rocky headlands. From the pathway above them, we could see seals sunbathing, some rather noisily; all seemed to be awaiting the high tide to get off of their high perches.

Searching for a campsite, we discovered a nice little gravel road down to a confluence of two rivers that turned out be buggy, but beautiful. Set up camp at the river’s edge and explored the waterway on foot,

wading through the rocky, strong current, knee-deep in our water shoes and, in my case, socks and long pants to combat the sand flies. Crossed over and up a road along the ridge between the two rivers. Climbed pretty high, lots of water puddling on the road and running down the slopes. Not too cold water, and fun. Took some great pictures.

John put together a great campfire which we enjoyed right through the dusk. The first stars peeked at us through the cloud cover and as we turned in to our tent, the sky remained cloudy and sort of glowing all night long. Drifted off to the sound of the rapids and the last of the bird song.

Day Two, Tuesday

Woke to a drizzle of rain, just a few wet spots inside the tent, but still warm and comfy. Birds singing like crazy over the babble of the rivers. Struck camp after giving up on sun to dry the tent. Tea and cereal and then we hit the road. Stopped at several scenic views of the coast, getting even more rugged as we moved south.

On a whim, stopped at a canoe rental and got a couple kayaks to explore some river… didn’t catch the name. Just beautiful! Donned wet suits, packed a lunch and the camera and climbed into our little plastic Minnows. Struggled a bit against a strong current, but the dramatic scenery made the effort worthwhile. At places, the water was too swift or too shallow to paddle, so we disembarked to walk the slippery rocks, towing the boats, sometimes over big rocks and logs. The ride back down was heavenly, and exciting with the fast current carrying us along.Filled a water bottle from

the center of the river, some of the best water I have ever tasted. Took lots of great photos, we both agreed it was highlight of the trip so far.

Downside, sort of, was the steady drizzle all through the day. Not a problem while boating, but had a tough time finding and setting up camp late afternoon. After several aborted attempts to find a spot on the shoreline down gravel roads, we set up next to the start of a bush walk leading to a wild and deserted beach. Dinner of steak and salads, then walk down the pretty path through native rainforest teeming with moss, ferns, vines, trees of every imaginable green color and texture. There must have been thousands of different species of plants growing on every surface. Even the trunks and branches of the big trees had dozens of different ferns and moss growing right on them. I expected Treebeard to pop up around every corner. It isn’t just the pounding surf that makes the West Coast wild. We figure Nelson woods will seem pretty tame compared to this.

John made a fire on the beach, which we enjoyed through the drizzle of continuing rain. Back down the trail to camp to download pics off camera and write this, and to bed in a steady, heavy rain.

Day Three, Wednesday

Still raining when we awoke. Stayed fairly dry even though the floor of the tent was puddled with water. Thanks to John’s purchase of a large airbed mattress, we remained pretty dry, although the tent, fly, tarp and mattress were hopelessly wet; packed them up as they were. A cup we had left outside had 1 ½ inches of rainwater in it. We took off without any tea or food, but found a nice bar/café open. Nice folks cooked us up plates of bacon (ham), eggs (sunnyside up happily enthroned on two pieces of toast), sausages (bangers), fried tomatoes(red), toast on the side (cold) and tea. A feast for wet and weary travelers for just $20 (Kiwi money).

Thus fortified, we headed for the Franz Josef glacier (pronounced as though it contained more “glass” than another: glassier). The rain had stopped, and we joined the throng of tourists on the path to the face of the mighty ice shelf. Interesting to listen to the tourists and try to guess from where they hail – we heard Hebrew, Lebanese, Japanese, Chinese, Flemish, German, French, American and British English and a few we just couldn’t place. With so many non-Kiwis, you never knew whether to stick to the left side of the walking trail or the right.

Steep and tricky walk through rainforest bush up the valley into a canyon which had been cut by the heavy ice over the past couple hundred years. A cold, damp wind blew off the ice and down onto us as we picked our way along the rocky valley floor. Despite ducking under several ropes and past some “Danger” signs we weren’t able to get close enough to touch the glacier, but viewed it over the rushing river flowing out from underneath. To tell the truth, it reminded me of dirty parking-lot snow, but hints of aqua-green peeked through in places.

We watched a bit enviously as those who had paid a fee were herded like docile sheep (in matching blue parkas, red fannypacks and black rubber boots) up an aluminium (that’s how they pronounce it here: al you MIN ium) ladder and onto the ice, up a switchback pathway. Found a girl to take our photo together, and I even found some small chunks of ice floating at the water’s edge.

Of course we just had to taste it,
mmmmm..., thats good glacier!

The walk back was mostly downhill and warmer with the cold wind at our backs. In fact, I got too warm even with my jacket off, but had only to turn around for a fresh face-full of glacier wind. All told, we were gone for 2 ½ hours, most of that walking.

Another half-hour of driving up and down, snaking our way along highway 6, we arrived at the village of Fox Glacier (tourist traps everywhere you looked) and debated. If you have seen one glacier, have you seen them all? No, we decided, and were glad we did. Way better than the first one! Fewer people, shorter and smoother walk, plus we were able to get right up to the ice!

Climbing around on the rocks/ice was chilly but thrilling. I saw one large bunch of boulders shift a bit which was enough for my life to start flashing by. But we got some nice photos and made our way out satisfied.

Hotels/lodges around the village all had "no vacancy" signs up but John spotted a farmyard a few miles down the road but still in the middle of nowhere with a "motel" sign. We wound up actually in a lovely little cabin with charming Kiwi furnishings including a kitchen and a big car port where we hung our tent to dry. So, here we are: warm, dry, showered, fed... and we get TWO stations on the TV, what more could we ask for? Right outside our window is a very charming horse tethered to crop the grass down and a herd of deer across the road.
The farm owners placed a fresh pitcher of milk in the fridge, but I’m not sure a venison steak is included for our $70.

Day Four, Thursday

Rained all through the night, pattering on the roof and puddling in the yard. SO glad we were safe and dry in our little cabin; had pancakes and fresh raspberries for breakfast and headed south along the coast in a steady drizzle.

Our first stop, we broke out the rain ponchos and headed down a junglesque track. There are not enough adjectives to do it justice, and I’m afraid the photos don’t either, but I’ll just say we were enchanted --- wet but enchanted. Actually the rain seemed fitting in this lush rainforest, dripping from the leaves above onto our heads. The track was very wet, sometimes more like a creek, and the priority switched from trying to keep our shoes dry, to avoiding the sometimes-slippery rocks and tree roots.

After an hour or so, we heard the sound of falling water, and discovered a hidden cave waterfall down in the valley below the track. The trip down through the jungle was a struggle, and we gave up any attempt to stay clean and dry, just managing not to plummet down to the rocky, log-strewn stream bed below. Following the deep musical cadence of echoing water, we finally ascended the stream bed into the cave, big enough to stand in with vines and water trickling down from above our heads to the floor and over the brink. Cool. And we had this walk to ourselves; never saw another soul. Guess the rain is good for something.

Now thoroughly soaked, we got back on the road with all the other tourists in their cars, bikes, motorcycles, campervans and buses and stopped at a few more spots, including one with a wicked long cable bridge (my favorite… NOT) leading to the Blue Pools all the time wishing that the clouds would clear so we could see the mountains we knew were all around us. And wishing for an end to the damn sandflies!!!!

Pulled into Haast township to buy some gas and supplies. Asked a clerk about the weather and she said, “we don’t get weather reports here.” I don’t know. Anyway, we just kept on going, passing great lakes and rivers, but every time we stopped, the sandflies were brutal! We despaired an evening of camping with rain and bugs, but just then we pulled into a campground at a lake and sighed with relief.

Not only a picture postcard view of clear, deep water surrounded by snow-capped mountains, but a stiff breeze blowing off the water to get rid of the bugs…. Nirvana!!
In the next couple of hours, the clouds blew by and the sun came out and found us in a lovely camp site right on the water, a fire roaring, full tummies, a dry tent and warm sleeping bags all set…. Perfect. We even had a nice conversation with a couple also touring the island. He, English, she, Swiss, but living in Portugal. Quite the adventure they are on here. We invited them to call us when they are in Nelson, so hopefully we will see them again.

Day Five, Friday

Very good sleeping, but woke to find the wind had died and the sandflies were back in force. Everyone in the place started to pack up, except for one couple who went skinny dipping in the cold lake water. Looked like fun, so we lagged behind after everyone cleared out and went for it. Slippery stones and shallow water made it pretty difficult to get in and we suddenly realized a tour bus had pulled up and we had quite a little audience. Oh well… I’m sure our performance made their vacation. Plus, they probably thought we were European.

Spent a good part of the day making our way over toward Mount Cook National Park. Surprisingly easy drive through the big, flat mountain valleys around to the south, over and up again. In most areas, both sides of the road were covered with lupine – I counted at least 8 different colors. It looked like candy. Around one corner, there appeared a huge lake of the strangest color, a bright blue-green that reminded me of a swimming pool. Turned out it was a cold, deep lake of high mountain ice melt that ran down the valley in wide, flat streams. Strangely, our photos don’t show the color at all, and we never did get close down to the water, although the highway followed the shoreline for several miles. No houses or boats or any activity until the end (the mountain lakes are long and thin) where several sheep/cow farms were situated. We thought the lakes here would be crowded and busy, but that hasn’t been the case. Some of the lakes have communities or camp grounds, but otherwise they are quiet.

Pulled into the village of Mount Cook, which is really just lodges and hotels, cafes and restaurants and information services. You could hire (rent) a devise that would send out an electronic signal if you got lost in the mountains, so the rescuers could find you. Picked up some map brochures and found a spot at a nearby campground – quite a busy place. Had a nice restful evening that included an hour walk to a view of the snow and ice-covered mountain peaks.

Sitting there watching the setting sun throw light up onto the ice, we could hear booms of avalanching snow above us behind the clouds. On the way back to the camp, we saw a dark cloud of rain moving up the valley toward us.

Got our ponchos on just in time and enjoyed the light misting until bed time.

Day 6, Saturday

Woke early and John packed up while I cooked breakfast of bacon, eggs, bread, tea and juice. By 8:30, we were on the Hooker Valley track leading up, again, toward the base of the big mountains. We thought we would beat the crowds, but there were a few more couples making the 3-hour walk.

Mostly hilly, but not too steep terrain with native bushes, grasses and the beautiful big Alpine daisy. The rocky environment was just being reclaimed by the vegetation after the whole glacier/landslide thing, and there were no trees. What started out as a fairly cloudy morning cleared to a brilliant blue sky and bright sunshine, so that we even got to see an almost completely uncovered Mt. Cook!

Along the trail, we crossed two long swing bridges over the wild Hooker River, milky and ice cold with glacier run-off. Eventually, we reached the lake to find floating chunks of ice broken off the face of the glacier at the head of the lake. On the way back to the car, we must have passed 60-odd people. Little knots of Japanese tourists who took pictures of everything (including gravel), families with babies and noisy youngsters, older folks who walked with fancy summer “ski” poles for balance, and ordinary ones like us from all over the place. We experimented murmuring “caio” or “guten morgan” as they passed, but it was just for our amusement. We are bad. It did start to mist and the rest of the day turned pretty wet and dark, but never poured down rain. We drove back along the green lake and around toward the east coast and then up toward Arthur Pass that would take us back west. Passed a few tiny towns and lots and lots of sheep, all in the drizzly, grey light. Finally stopped here in Springfield where we found a room in an old brick hotel. We got the honeymoon suite, which we thought amusing as we have to share a bathroom. It has a funky canopy over the bed and an old clock in the fireplace. Guess they thought we’d be too busy to watch TV. Too bad, because being pretty close to Christchurch, they probably get 3 or 4 channels. They have a bar/restaurant downstairs, but we went across the street for dinner, straining through the foggy drizzle for traffic on the highway. The café we visited had good food, but not great service. John ordered tea; I said I’d just have water. The woman poured hot water in a tea cup for me. I apologized and said cold water would be great. She said, “Oh, you don’t want to drink our water cold.” Well, ok. She also glanced out the front door, sighed and said it was so depressing that they hadn’t seen the sun all week. It was pretty sad. But the lasagna was good. They also had a very nice cat sleeping on a couch in the corner of the café (a couch COVERED in cat hair, by the way). John called it “a cat and a half” because it was so fat and sleepy.

So here we are, cozy in our honeymoon room almost ready to drift off and see what awaits us tomorrow.

Day Seven, Sunday

On Saturday evening, I had called a horse trekking place and set up a time for us to take a ride Sunday morning. We were worried about the weather, but the morning dawned so bright and clear, it was like a miracle. Of course we had brought that sunshine with us. Through the whole trip, when we really needed good clear weather, it appeared. We are so lucky.

Just a few kilometers back into the hills, we found Rubicon Valley Farm. A neat one-story brick farm house surrounded by colorful gardens and neatly trimmed lawns, paddocks of beautiful horses, a dozen or so Alpacas and hundreds of sheep. We also discovered a shop displaying Alpaca fiber and deep soft “blankets” of the fir, like lambskins, but, we later learned, made on a machine that embeds the soft fiber in a backing fabric that is then covered with a synthetic suede. Fantastic use of technology to make a great product without killing the animal – the softest, thickest I have ever felt. The woman of the farm, Del, came out and we started talking about the Alpaca, which are cute, well-behaved and easier to deal with than sheep. They seem the ideal animal, and each baby sells for several thousand dollars!

Pretty soon, here comes the man of the farm, Chris, leading two horses saddled and ready to go. Then he brought his horse out, a giant of a thing. Appropriate, considering the man himself was way over 6 feet tall. Ours were more petite, Lulu was for me and John got paired up with Tim, who, despite his small size, was the leader of the herd.

We mounted, had a short refresher course, and headed off down the road, across a few sheep paddocks, through some woods and up and down a path overlooking the river far below. The sheepdog, Tess, accompanied us to our delight, and it was great fun to watch her interacting with the sheep in the paddock. She never chased them, of course, being VERY well trained, but she stared them down and they rarely turned their backs on her. Once I saw a rather large ewe stand up to her, and Tess made a wide circle around her. Wow… a sheep with backbone!

Along the way we had interesting conversation with Chris, about his business and family. Just into their second year on the farm, after Chris’ career as a police officer, the family also performed daily at a farm show (demonstrating shearing and sheep handling with the help of Tess the Wonderdog) and had jet boat rides available as well. I think the more successful Kiwis have learned to diversify to make the most of their resources.

Lulu seemed a bit stubborn and Tim kept stealing grass to eat along the way, but otherwise it was great. An hour’s ride was just right. My butt was not quite completely numb. After wiping down our horses and purchasing a big bag of black Alpaca fiber from a yearling called “Memphis” for just $10 (a HUGE bargain), we said goodbye and headed out.

Didn’t take long before, sure enough, the rain and fog were back with a vengeance. We soon knew camping was out of the question, so we did the calculations and realized we could be home by 8 pm if we drove straight through. Rain and traffic and wicked slopes and curves in Arthur’s Pass, we speeded through by 7, glad to be home in our Nelson flat. By the way… it was sunny and beautiful.