Things That Go Bump In the Night

1 month, 31 days, 744 hours, 44640 minutes, 2678400 seconds - at last our self imposed sober hell came to an end, not that we had been counting the time or anything. So it was time to celebrate but what could we do - a lovely meal, nightclub, cocktail lounge - far too obvious - a bottle of wine and a night in a haunted hotel room - bingo!

Whilst reading our Lonely Planet Guide Ed had found info on a village called St Bathans:

"If a trip to St Bathans leaves you with an eerie tingle down your spine, you're not the first. Set in a hollow in what feels close to the middle of nowhere, this tiny village is believed to be haunted. Ask the proprietor at the Vulcan Hotel and you'll get an adamant nod followed by a quick look over her shoulder. Doors opening and closing, missing objects and books flying off the shelves are her frequent reminders of the nonpaying hotel guest."

It had to be done, so on Wednesday morning we set off with our ghost busting supplies - a bumper size bag of crisps, dry roasted peanuts and a $5 bottle of wine.

St Bathans was indeed as spooky as promised, once a thriving gold mining town with a population of 2000 people, numbers have dwindled somewhat in recent times to a grand total of 4, the couple that run the Vulcan Hotel and the couple that run the post office - incidentally we discovered that both couples actually hate each other and don't talk, making for an incredible sense of community!

With a small street lined with historic ruins and preserved gold mining history, we decided to get ourselves into a ghostly frame of mind with a stroll round the cemetery and the crumbling remains of the local school house. Even the Post Mistress got us in the mood with classic lines such as "This is a post office not a ghost office" and "If you drink too many spirits you may just see some spirits" - personally, I felt the last line could have done with a little more work.

So with much anticipation and a raging desire to drink as much lager as humanely possible, we checked ourselves in at the Vulcan Hotel. Mike, the landlord, served us our first pint, our first for a month I told him. "Fucking hell, you're not a pair of gay boys are you?" he joked. "Actually yes" I said. Sudden hush in the bar as everyone turned to look at us. "Are you fucking serious, fucking hell, don't worry I'm not homophobic or anything, I'm just going to murder you in the morning!" From that moment on we knew our night in a haunted room was not going to be quite as we'd hoped.
Room 1, where we were staying, was one of four and we were the only people staying that night. The story went that our room used to be home to a local prostitute who was brutally murdered one evening, by a client who stole all of her money. Ever since her presence has been felt in a number of ways.

Recreating TV's 'Most Haunted' - Ed taking the role of Derek Acorah and me as Yvette Fielding - we sadly felt no presence and heard no noises. So we decided to venture back into the bar to question Judy, the more friendly other half to Mike. By this time the bar was empty and to say Judy was shitfaced is a gross understatement. We could tell the level of her intoxication by the amount of time it took her to attempt to put a fallen flip flop back on her foot - approx 5 mins before she gave up and slipped the other one off to avoid embarrassment. She told us that she had owned the bar for 7 years and undoubtedly there was a ghost, grabbing a Woman's Weekly from behind the bar she opened it at a recently written article about Room 1. It was this section that caught my eye:

"When new proprietors arrive to take over the running of the hotel, the ghost becomes especially active. Mike and Jude found a gin bottle had been emptied, and pictures on the wall were rearranged. Jude's banking books had mysteriously vanished, yet she eventually found them exactly where she had left them."

Ummm an empty gin bottle and things disappearing only to reappear exactly where they had been left. It all became horribly clear. We retired to our blatantly non haunted room, ate peanuts and had a brilliant nights sleep. Disappointing on the ghost front, although we did notice something unusual in a photograph we had taken.

So this brought us to the end of our Kiwi experience. With just enough time to stop off at Mount Cook, quite possibly the most beautiful place we have ever visited, we are now flying back to Australia for Mardi Gras, the royal visit from Jake Senior and the thing we have been dreading the most - it begins with w and has ork in it. Ed is already shaking just at the thought of it.

Having An Ice Time

Just so you can picture where we are right now, we're sat in our van enjoying the latest fixation in our lives - Boysenberry ice cream!

We now only have one week left in New Zealand which feels hard to believe, the last month has just flown by. At the beginning of last week we went to Franz Josef in order to climb the glacier there, interestingly named Franz Josef Glacier. Opting for the 'All day ice adventure' we rocked up, kitted ourselves out in boots, waterproofs and crampons and headed out to tackle the beast. Boys being boys we pushed our way to the front (well actually, Matt pushed us to the front) in order to be in group one - the fastest group which would lead the pack - and we began our hike up into the ice, a path being cut out for us by our pickaxe wielding guide.

I'm loathed to overuse the word but I think it's fair to describe the sights and experience as awesome, crawling, climbing and sliding our way up and down the ice, through and into tight crevices (insert your own 'ooh er' jokes here) and whilst it was quite a work out we loved every second, although my feet weren't thanking me for it at the end of the day!The photos won't purvey the sheer scale of the thing but rest assured it's pretty bloody big.
We also visited Fox Glacier, didn't climb it, didn't buy any mints, did have a photo taken though.

From here I hobbled down south to The Catlins. A place to stop and chill out for a few days to break up the driving (New Zealand is slightly larger than the UK and we've been to the north, south, east and west, as well as a few trips inland) as quite a lot of our time gets spent in the van. As an aside, considering the size of New Zealand compared to the UK, their population is approximately 4.2 million compared to our 60.5 which means there's plenty of space out here for everyone, although they do have 39.3 million sheep to make up for it (a haven for sheep worriers if ever I heard it).

In the Catlins we based ourselves in Curio bay, in the most secluded of camping spots amongst tall grasses and between two beaches. On one side of us we had a place to laze and take swims with the resident (wild) dolphins that shared the bay with the locals and tourists, and on the other side of us was a petrified forest (I still don't know what had happened to scare it so much) and the very rare Yellow-eyed penguins which we were able to watch up close in the evenings as they came out of the water, called out for their chicks and then threw up the contents of their stomachs for the little ones to feed on - Mmm, just-a like-a mamma used to make.

At night we sat and enjoyed the sunset before turning in and completing the cryptic crossword in the daily paper - another habit we've formed during our time here. Here's one to keep you going: How orchards produce profits (4,5).

From the Catlins we headed west again to visit Milford Sound in the Fiordlands. A tourist (and pesky Sandfly) hotspot, it's one of the places where it's necessary to join the hordes of other visitors and hop on a cruise to see the sights. Described by Rudyard Kipling as 'the eighth wonder of the world' it was certainly beautiful but I think the 'Jungle Booker' possibly over egged it slightly. However, we managed to get on a relatively small cruise (just 35 of us) which meant we spent a very lovely morning taking in the sights. Our mantra in New Zealand seems to be "what an amazing view" as they are just everywhere.It's the 12th February today and we haven't had a drop of alcohol pass our lips for thirty days. We had planned to keep going until Valentine's night and treat ourselves with a meal and a glass or 2 of wine but we have had to bring it forward by one day for reasons that I will let Matt explain in his next entry. It means that the drought ends tomorrow though, Hallelujah!

P.S. Apologies for the awful Petrified forest joke.

A Gay Old Time

With adrenaline still coursing through our veins we finally landed on the South Island. So what would be our next move? Bungy jumping, white water rafting, a spot of zorbing? Actually no, we were heading to a gay farmstay!

Autumn Farm is located on the edge of Takaka, a little hippy town in the Golden Bay region of New Zealand. We originally found the place when we were thinking of doing some farm work for a while. Okay we secretly had cowboy fantasies and notions of rolling in the hay but the very thought of work soon put paid to that idea. So we decided to stay and relax for a couple of days instead. The place was incredible - beautifully designed, everything had been thought of - a giant spinning glitter ball and disco lights in the bathroom (my personal favourite), a cushioned snug at the bottom of the garden and an outdoor bath heated by a fire beneath it. The place was also clothing optional, something me and my Ed just never buy into but is always great as a source for our amusement. There is nothing funnier than watching a highly unattractive man, making his lunch, in nothing but his sandals. We did very little at Autumn Farm, mainly sunbathing and taking evening baths under a blanket of stars - very romantic. Feeling refreshed it was time to move on though. As we left in the early morning we came across the best image of our trip so far - outside somebody's van was a discarded lone trainer and a cucumber - the mind truly boggles!

All the lazing around had made us hungry for a bit of exercise, so for our next venture we decided to undertake another of New Zealand's great walks - this one was through Abel Tasman National Park. Taking two days to complete we set off in the early morning with a rolled up blanket and enough cheese and chutney sandwiches to feed a small army. The sandwich filling actually sparked a lively debate between me and my Ed about whether Sir Edmund Hillary took cheese and chutney sandwiches up Everest - sadly it will be a question that we never get to ask. The walk was a fantastic experience, taking in the most stunning coastal scenery and with several secluded bays, we broke up our hiking with sunbathing and dips in the ocean. It was real achievement when we finally staggered into our destination.

We timed our completion of the Abel Tasman with the Mardi Gras celebration that was happening in Takaka. Now we realised that Tarkaka was a very hippy town but that still didn't prepare us for the amount of bad folk music we were about to endure. Painful is an understatement, mixed in with a 100% sobriety made the whole thing literally unbearable - naturally Ed loved every second. I honestly thought the day could get no worse, then the mime arrived and I was proved wrong.

If there is one thing in life I really hate it's mimes and this one was particularly detestable as he danced around like a cunt making over exaggerated facial gestures. Mimes really annoy me for many reasons but my biggest bugbear is the way they encroach their presence on other acts in a vain attempt to steal the limelight. Take this scene:

A group of young children were doing a dance presentation to a Michael Jackson song, an act that was ghastly enough in itself but take a closer look in the left hand corner:

There he is dancing around like a knob, trying to avert eyes on to him, ruining the group of 12 year olds moment of fame. Truly the act of a talentless narcissist. Please stop these people performing in public spaces!

The day would have been a total waste of life but it was thankfully saved when a little girl pulled down her pants and whilst standing up, pissed all over the grass, frankly a sentiment I quite agreed with, followed by an elderly woman unknowingly lying backwards and putting her head in it. We almost killed ourselves laughing.

Still chuckling we are now heading South to climb a glacier - it's New Zealand and we're not drinking, what else would we do!