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Here is the whole crew sans Rachel and Zuni (Zuni's too young for this kind of activity) getting ready for what is known by its technical name: Long Fucking Walk. Okay, for such folk as Jules, who walks ten times this much at a go it's not much, but it took us about 6 hours and for an out-of-shape computer geek like me, it was torture. So sit back in your leather armchair, flex your mouse wrist, and get ready to follow us on the Queen Charlotte track from Anakiwa to Lochmara Lodge! Here we are on one of our many stops where we discussed the relative merits (or detriments) of throwing banana skins, apple cores, and other non-native items into the New Zealand bush. The discussions were lively and varied. There were no clear winners or losers in the debate, but suffice it to say Dave is bloody-minded. And so is Jules. :) This was the first of the bays we stopped in for a little breather. I think it was after about ten minutes of walking and at least the fat out-of-shape computer losers like me were ready for a rest and a nice bit of morning chocolate. Here Fenny tries on a very expensive pair of sunglasses which, she claims, makes everything appear three-dimensional. The lazier of us sit on the beach talking... ...while the rest of us go swimming. Pictures of the Marlborough Sounds from the hills. Glorious. Here was another little bay where we stopped to rest. We saw ducklings and shade and all sorts of useful things. I took pictures so you can live vicariously through my camera. Here we are toward the bottom of a huge fucking hill that went up something like 3000 metres at a 70 degree angle. Fucking hill. Seriously, though, it was a bit steep, but the track was well-defined and easy to traverse. It's just the going up with a pack on back and legs that sit in a chair all the time that's tough. More pictures of the Marlborough Sounds from the hills. Wonderful views. Lovely waters. Great trees and bush. Go there and be cheered. Here we descend a bit toward a bendy bit that would bring us back around to Lochmara Lodge. At this point, we were all (except Jules) tired, and we wanted to have beers, juices, food, and beers. Did I say beers? Oh. Yeh. I did. Beer. Sweet nectar of the Gods. Why oh why don't I like beer? I was stuck with some shite orange juice that tasted like a cross between lemon juice and kerosene. Although the One True and Great Prophet Michael Wood of England Wellington tried to get some good Orange Juice, alas, he was constrained by the reality of Picton having a shite grocery store and the best thing he could pick up was whatever abomination passes for Orange Juice in Picton. They called it "orange juice" but it was patently NOT Orange Juice. It was shite. Hooray! Landmarks! Those boats down there seemed to be anchored offshore of Lochmara Lodge the entire time we were there. They really were landmarks for us. You can tell everyone's bushed. Apparently Buzzy had just dropped some speed or something, because he was all full of energy. Shrooms! Once we made it back to the lodge, we started looking for a redheaded dude who we knew was Brother of Dave, but whose name was otherwise unknown to us. So we asked a few redhead dudes if they were Brother of Dave. This particular guy here was. So we invited him to sit with us until Dave returned. He had a couple of folk with him, whose names I could never remember. I don't know what it is. After 6 hours of gruelling walking and having me in their face: "Smile for a picture!" "Oh, wait, let me take a picture of this!" Everyone had lost their patience for pictures. I don't know what Adam's problem was... ;) More pics of Lochmara Lodge before the evening fell. |
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