Getting Picton
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Picton,
South Island,
New Zealand
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Y'know, there's not a great deal to do on a New Zealand ferry in the middle of the night. The café's got a few sorry looking sandwiches left, the bars and stuff are closed, and Kirsty is asleep. After finding a power point, charging up the computer and iPod whilst doing a bit of writing, Jacob elected to join her. It being gone two in the morning, that was probably a good idea.
As we waited to disembark, we very quickly re-bedded the back of the van, so when we found somewhere to stop, we could just clamber straight into bed. A very short distance from the port, up a dark winding hill, were a few little laybys, some of which already populated by dozing motorists. When we woke up, we realised we could see the ferries in the harbour, and hear the clatter and bang of the stevedores. To be honest, getting a good night's sleep on the edge of a dockyard is nothing special as far as Jacob's concerned, but it speaks volumes about how tired Kirsty was.
We drove into Picton, a town with not much in it, to get a few bits and pieces sorted out - checking the oil in the van, buying screen wash, cursing and swearing about not being able to find the screen wash reservoir, cursing and swearing some more when we found where it was buried and realised it was impossible to fill...that sort of thing. So, a hardware shop for a funnel and some tubing, a bakery for some 'gourmet pies' (really rather good), and that was our Picton experience pretty much done with.
Northern South Island is wine country, but Picton isn't. Having sorted the van out and polished off our highly nutritious breakfast, we set out for Renwick to see what grapey goodness we could scrounge.
