Roadtrippin' again

A couple of weeks or so ago, we finished our grape harvest work and headed off around the South Island to do a bit more travelling. We hadn't saved up as much money as we'd hoped...actually that's an understatement, we hadn't saved up anything like as much money as we'd expected, but hey ho, we are not going to let it stop us. We left Nelson, with some trepidation; we felt like we'd become slightly institutionalised - Nelsonised if you like - by staying in one spot for so long. We headed east towards Blenheim and visited the excellent Aviation Heritage Centre, which has been revamped by the Weta Workshop, who did the special effects for Lord of the Rings. Basically it's just a bunch of old war planes which, in any other setting, I probably wouldn't find that interesting, however the Weta Workshop have put so much attention in the detail that they have really brought the planes to life. I found the stories of friends and family loved and lost very moving and particularly liked tableau, based on actual photos and film footage, of the Australian regiment's discovery of the legendary Red Baron's plane after he was finally shot down.

We spent one night in Blenheim and visted Montana's winery the next day for a tour. You'd think we might be a bit over the whole grape thing but in fact it was really interesting to see what happens when the grapes we pick leave the vineyard. We did some wine tasting - yes, even me. No, I didn't like it, still tastes like pretty horrible stuff to me, but I could smell the blackcurrant in the Pinot Noir and the peach in the Sauvignon Blanc so that's a start, eh? Isaac rather liked it and decided he should start drinking more wine but since we can't afford alcohol he'll have to wait until we get back to Canada.

Downwards to Kaikoura - stopping only to watch the seal pups playing on the rocks - and a visit to my friend Justine, who was my first mentor during my midwifery training. She moved to NZ in 2001 and got married in January to a sheep farmer called Barry. Barry's family has been sheep farming in Kaikoura since the 1850s, so he tells me he's almost a local now. They have 600+ acres at the foothills of Mount Fyffe, with some damn spectacular views down to the town and coastline; on a very clear day up at the top you can see the North Island apparently. Justine had clearly settled into sheep farmer's wife mode very comfortably indeed. She gets up ridiculously early (when I told her I normally woke around 8.30/9am, which I think is pretty good, she just laughed) and helps Barry with sheepy things until it's time for her to go to work, then when she's not working she bakes cakes and biscuits and produces perfect, stodgy, farm-type food. We got the chance to help (read: watch) Barry with the dagging, which is when you cut the wool off from around the sheep's bottoms to prevent it getting all clogged with poo - nice - and troughing, which is where you get them to walk through some stuff to remove infection from their feet. We also got to ride his quad bike up and over the hills, through the paddocks and fields, and check out those views.

The first night we were there, we went to reverse Jaffa back towards the garage so we could hook up to power. As I did so, there was a horrible, crunching, grinding noise - I kept checking the handbrake to see if I'd left it on but no. I pulled into place and turned her off, whereby Isaac & I looked at each other with concern. We decided that if we didn't talk about it too much then it probably didn't happen - a strategy that usually works for a bit at least - and then headed back inside. A couple of days later we decided to visit the town and got back into Jaffa for the journey. She started off just fine but as soon as we got down to the main road the grinding, crunching noise started again. I stopped immediately and we took a moment to consider our options.We lifted the front seats to look at the engine, which is located underneath and both stared at it. For quite some time. Suddenly, I spotted something! I reached down gingerly into the engine and pulled out...a travel adaptor. Wedged in amongst the abundance of pipes and metalwork. Not one we'd brought, I hasten to add, so presumably wedged there for some time. I reached in and pulled it out, but to be honest, even I didn't expect it to help. "So what do you think we should do?" I asked Isaac. "Well, if I was back home I'd call Hale* to come and see what was wrong" he replied, hopefully. "Ah, the thing is, Hale is in Canada, so we might have to try to deal with it ourselves" I reminded him. Thank goodness we had decided to take out an AA** policy way back at the beginning of our trip for just such an eventuality. I did hope that he might find our handbrake was sticking and he could fix it by the side of the road, but in my heart of hearts I knew that this was just a pipe dream. Sure enough, a tow truck came along and, after listening to our story, he said immediately "Yeah, your gearbox is buggered. I'll tow you into a garage to get a new one". Damn.

The garage we got towed too seemed nice. Murray the mechanic started draining the oil out of the sump and showed us that it had that tell-tale sheen caused by metal filiments from a disintegrating gearbox, along with some lumps of metal that - and remember here that I'm NOT a mechanic - didn't seem good news to me. He seemed eager to help us as quickly and inexpensively as possible but a new gearbox doesn't come cheap. He managed to source a second-hand one from Christchurch, which he had sent up immediately, and told us he could fit it first thing in the morning. Justine was kind enough to come and collect us later from town and took us back to stay at her house - thank goodness for friends! Next morning at around 11.30am I called Murray to see what the latest was and he told me it was all fixed and ready to be picked up. Not only had they put a new gearbox in, but they'd also replaced our sump plug, which was the cause of our (still slowly dripping) oil leak and he'd even repaired the heating for us, which in perfectly typical fashion had broken down just as the weather turned cool. All in it cost $750, which I guess wasn't bad, but when you're on as tight a budget as we are, it was one hell of a blow. Still, we are now warm, have a gearbox that works AND a new travel adaptor!

We felt we'd taken advantage of Justine and Barry's hospitality long enough so we said our goodbyes and drove down the coast towards Hanmer Springs, where our friends Ben & Coleanne are staying for the winter. We stopped one night in a town called Waiau (no idea how to pronounce that without sounding like an idiot) which had a very OVER enthusiastic campsite owner who insisted we call him 'Hutch'. I'm sure he felt it lent him kudos. The campsite was great though, with a well equipped kitchen and not one but TWO television rooms, neither of which we frequented of course, preferring to stay in the van and watch films on my laptop. We're SO anti-social. We didn't even use the kitchen because we walked down to the shop (one of two in town, but the only one open after 5pm) and got fish and chips. The following morning we headed off again towards Hanmer Springs and met up with Ben & Coleanne at the lovely house they're renting. Hanmer is a tiny town in the middle of some mountains, so we could see why these two Banff residents had stopped a-while there. It's famous for its hot springs and Coleanne, as a massage therapist, was working at the springs Spa, while Ben had a job in a local bar. This meant of course that they didn't see each other for most of the week, as Ben went to work before Coleanne came home, so I think they were happy to have some company for a few days!

We spent a very pleasant few days hanging out there, playing monopoly, visiting the hot springs (where we got ourselves a private thermal pool for half an hour), going through an Indiana Jones-inspired maze (which was very lame), playing mini-golf/crazy golf and cooking food that we never get to make in the van (because we don't have an oven!) like my famously good corned beef hash, which went down very well with Ben & Coleanne (Ben just before he went to work, Coleanne just after she came back).

Eventually, a couple of days ago, we moved on once again, driving down to Christchurch, which I've long been told is very like England. Well yesterday we spent most of the day walking around the town in the pouring rain, so I guess that reminded me somewhat of home, but I don't think we've quite 'got' Christchurch yet. We'll stay a few more days and see what we think.

*Matt Hale, Isaac's best friend, who is an apprentice mechanic
**Automobile Association, for the non-UK, non-Kiwis amongst you. It's a breakdown service.