Pissed away a week in Christchurch for no reason other than inertia. I did manage to see the rugby league semi-final match where hometown heroes Canterbury soundly beat Hawke's Bay 20-3 in front of an indifferent quarter-full stadium. In fact, the only motivated people in the house was a crew of about 20 teenaged Tui-fueled Hawke's Bay fanatics who amused themselves by drunkenly singing their fight song for hours on end. At least they got their money's worth. On a depressing side note, mullets are apparently a big hit with the Kiwi youth.
On to Arthur's Pass amidst unseasonably and unusual pleasant weather. The fair skies didn't deter the infamous sand flies from veering from full-on attack mode or the protected yet incredibly annoying kea (the alpine parrot) from being a pain in the arse. Nevertheless, I took advantage of the relatively low springtime stream levels to slog around the muck and bogs in an uneventful overnight trek. The reward was a delicious meat pie at the only store in the village and some job hunting advice from the Ashburton-based truck driver who picked me up whilst hitchhiking back to the trailhead. Sounds like the seed hauling business kicks into high gear in January and they are always looking for broke and bored foreign schmucks to do the dirty work...sign me up!
On to the West Coast, where you are guaranteed endless winds and rain, but at least there are some decent breweries...
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