abandon hope(well)

Farewell, Hopewell.

It's good to know such a place exists, filled with sunshine and glow worms and lovely people from all over the world. 

On the boat to pick up my car, Mike said if he were rich, he'd run it for free. 

The narrow road to Picton is filled with twists and turns. Lots of timber being shipped every which way. 

I like these two, having a picnic. He gave me a piece of toffee. 

An American, a cyclist I met at a scenic viewpoint, directed me to the Dutch bakery in Picton, full of Christmas treats. 

It was a block from the Villa where I once passed a happy week drinking Marlborough wine, hiking the Queen Charlotte Track in the rain, and watching Keanu Reeves videos. 

My ship. Mostly freight. Interislander is the government-owned ferry while Bluebridge is the pirate-themed upstart. 

Now we're wending our way through the Marlborough Sounds and Cook Strait to Wellington.  

See you next time, South Island. 

the world is your oyster

We headed out at low tide to collect oysters. 

Ute assured me they were everywhere 

and if you looked closely they were. 

Many clung to the rocks despite our efforts to loosen them. 

But the results were worth it. 

Right? 

Check the tides before you go. 

Borrow a little balsamic vinaigrette to dress them. 

And don't forget to slurp. 

*** 

French couple watching me proudly shuck oysters: Very nice. It only took you two hours. 

sea adventures

"You paddle to a haunted house and a shipwreck. It's like a whole episode of Scooby Do."

We set off for the orange roof across the sound. Lynley encouraged us to hug the shore but mostly we didn't listen. 

The wind was at our backs. The hotel at St Omer's is abandoned. 

I loved the gazebo and watching a pied shag devour its lunch in one gulp. 

We hit rougher currents returning but finished strong and warmed up in the hot tub. 

Another day in paradise. 

sounds like

"I believe if more people took up baking there'd be world peace."

Hopewell is a renowned lodge in Marlborough Sounds. You can get there by taking a narrow, winding road for 3 hours or like I did on a water taxi, which means Mike came to fetch me with a boat. 

There aren't any stores so I brought more groceries than clothes. Fortunately Hopewell has the kind of well-stocked kitchen you usually only see on TV cooking shows.  

Inspired, I traded a little mustard for arugula and made roast chicken with mushrooms, wine, carrots, and potatoes. We stayed up late talking about hiking in various national parks here and in Iceland, as travelers do. 

A front blew in from Antarctica so I skipped kayaking and went for a walk. 

Then I hung out in the hot tub for awhile and listened to birds. 

At some point, Rich surprised us with cinnamon rolls. 

He's baking focaccia now. 

Once upon a time he worked for Apple, but now he's figured out how to have two summers a year. 

(Hard to argue with that. It was delicious too.) 

It was a bountiful feast with guests from France, Germany, The Netherlands, Israel, the U.K., and Canada at the table. 

We talked about politics and religion and medicine and software development. And how far we'd come to this island nation in the middle of the Pacific. 

We did not solve anything over mussels in the rain. But warm bread and the right company will bring you pleasure and contentment, and maybe that will spread.