Susan's Travel Sagas

Up early to be at the ferry departure point by 7 AM. Started boarding the ferry around 7:30. The campers and large trucks (semi-trailers) were already on board. After the cars boarded the foot passengers came aboard.  The ferry had two levels for passengers - on the lower level was a café, some lounge seating, and two side areas with seats that looked sort of like airplane seating. That is where the free movie was shown. (I opted out - the movie - “Get Smart.) On the upper level was the bar, and many cabins. Some were labeled that were strictly to be used by commercial truck drivers and others seemed available to the public. The doors were open and I could see a number  of people alseep in them. There were outdoor decks on each level.  The weather was overcast and windy although the ride was smooth.

I spoke for a while to a kiwi couple in their 70’s who were taking the RV to the South Island to go to a wedding. I first saw them asleep on one of the lounge settees, holding hands, she with her head on his shoulder and he with his arm around her. I learned they had been married 47 years, had had a large farm, primarily cattle, but were now retired and had only a few animals left.  They told me that in the past they had come to the South Island to buy cattle; as the conversation progressed I then understood why when I went out on the back deck of the lower level, there was a distinct and very unpleasant odor. They asked if I noticed the containers which were then empty down below the deck and told me those containers were used to transport the cattle and retained their distinct odor. The ride in through Charlotte Sound was scenic with many islands, but I think diminshed due to the gloomy nature of the weather.

I spent no time in Pictron where the ferrty landed, but drove out of town on Queen Charlotte Road which afforded some views of other areas of the sound that were nicer in some ways than those from the boat. . Just out of town was the section of the port where all the lumber wss brought to be shipped out.  I stopped in Havekock along that road. the town is the green mussel capital of the world. I ate  a lunch of steamed mussels in a bleu cheese, parsley, and wine broth at the Mussel Café. Specific instructions were posted on the wall about how to get the mussels out of the shell (first one with your fingers and then the rest by using the empty shell as a tweezers) with large letters instructing “No Forks.” Stopped at a scenic overlook which afforded the first view of distant snow of the southern Alps and spoke with a German woman that I had briefly encountered on the ferry.

Then on the Nelso. Wasn’t feeling so good as the drive continued and was very tired. Pulled off the road for a short catnap and then continued into the city. The city was described as one with many artisans and craftspeople. At least where I was in the center I didn’t see much of that at all. It was a typical NZ town, bigger than  some. I visited the regional museum which was nicely done with information about the history of the area. Sir Ernest Rutherford, earlty 20th century Nobel prize winner, was from Nelson.  Stopped in a café for a mocha, saw the Catholic Cathedral on the hill, and walked over to a neaby street that had preserved homes form the early settlement days. Then back to the car to head out of town to Motueka, my destination for the night.

Apparaently I made a wrong turn at a roundabout because almost 20 km later I discovered I had gone around in a big circle and was coming back into Nelson from a different direction. By then I was in the “rush hour traffic” and really irritated that I had wasted the time (45 minutes). After I got back to where I had made the wrong turn I did not repeat my error and headed out of town. While driving to Motueeka it appeared there were some small more interesting little towns along the way. My time would have been better served skipping Nelson, but by then I just wanted to get where I was going so I didn’t veer from the path to my destination.

The Grey Heron Italian Organic B&B is quite nice. I am the only guest here. Sandor and I had a discussion about how he will never visit the US because the one time he had to pass through immigration on a trip he was treated very badly by the U.S. Immigration people and refuses to be treated that way again. I also learned that he would like to be a jazz drummer and has taught Italian cooking. Taking to heart the advice that restaurants don’t stay open late in the area, I went into town, had a smoked chicken, cashew, and strawberry salad and returned for the night.