Adult Under Construction: But Wait, There's More!

Part of the reason I've been writing less recently is that I've been in the same place since I've been in New Zealand. I figured it was about time to see the rest of this country, so yesterday was my last in Wellington. My time in Wellington ended on a day of incredible wind gusts and a light sprinkling of rain, much like the day I arrived. That wouldn't be worth mentioning except I arrived in the dead of winter and left in late spring – the weather is one thing I will not miss about New Zealand's capital city. After a rough sleep on the couch in my apartment (having sold my mattress), I awoke to clean my room and do what remained of my packing. I've left two of my three pieces of luggage in Wellington with a friend, so everything I have is now in one bag. It's a camping backpack with a removable shoulder bag, but we'll call it one, even though it weighs almost 22 kilograms. I walked through town doing my remaining errands with the weight of a four-year-old on my back, getting used to stabilizing myself when Wellington's gale-force winds tried to knock me over. Four months in the same place has softened me a little, I'm sorry to say – another month and I probably wouldn't have been so keen to leave owing to the weight of my luggage.

The errands finished, I stopped in at work for a goodbye breakfast (really a second breakfast, but who's counting). My boss gave me a ride to the ferry terminal and before long I had checked in my massive bag and begun waiting for the Interislander to take me to the South Island. The weather began clearing as we lined up to board. It had been a while since I travelled by water and if Wellington's winds are any guide, the Cook Strait must be one of the roughest commercially travelled waters on Earth. For the portion of the voyage that was on open water, I rested on the upper viewing deck, mostly keeping my eyes closed and waiting for the knot in my stomach to loosen. Almost every wave was large enough to make the ship rise and fall noticeably, and my stomach did a lot of the noticing. Fortunately, my goodbye breakfast stayed where it belonged, and I was sitting in a great place to view the oncoming scenery of Marlborough Sound. That is, until everybody else realized where we were, and gave me a great view of human posteriors.

Feeling less fragile once the strait was behind us, I realized that I should take the opportunity to the see the famously beautiful Marlborough Sound for the first time (I've seen human posteriors before). It was pretty stunning. It was like a combination of Canada's west coast, the North Channel of Lake Huron, and Iceland's fjords – although it's probably just easier to say it was like Marlborough Sound. I guess I was expecting this ferry route to be fairly straightforward because people talk about it as if it's a highway between the two islands, but it is not a route for amateur navigators. Once in the Sound, the random scattering of islands makes finding one's bearings all but impossible without practice. It was like a larger version of the islands I used to navigate between in the North Channel of Lake Huron. After an easy first hour in the harbour and a difficult second hour in the strait, the sound was an excellent reward. The approach to Picton was magnificent.

I spent last night in Picton, which could hardly be more different from Wellington. Where Wellington's streets were packed with pedestrians and cars, Picton hardly even has crosswalks because it's so easy to cross safely owing to the lack of traffic. Where Wellington's supermarket is open until midnight seven days a week, Picton's supermarket is open until 8. And where Wellington's downtown is packed with bars, cafés and nightspots, Picton seemed to have shut by the time I arrived at 6. On the other hand, where Wellington's hills were covered with houses, Picton's are almost too steep to build on safely. Where the ferry leaves Wellington surrounded by cruise ships and industry, it arrives in Picton seeming a little out of place. If I thought I had a sense of New Zealand as a whole, I was wrong. I'm glad I left Wellington when I did.

I was surprised to find that there is actually a train service from Picton to Christchurch (my next destination). It's more expensive than the bus, but it's one of only three intercity train services in New Zealand, so I almost felt obligated to take advantage. But before I leave Picton, here's a few photos from yesterday.