We left Fox Glacier after the first sleep-in we've managed so far. We decided to take a break from our hectic holiday and just cruise for a day. A holiday from the holiday so to speak.
On the way to doing nothing we came across some very strange piles of crap on the side of the road at Bruce Bay. We just had to stop, it was so weird. Underwear, CD's and hats festooned piled rocks and drift wood. There were thousands of these calling cards, from around the world judging from the languages and messages.
We wandered along the roadside reading the scribbled on rocks, (and avoiding the undies). Quite a few messages complained about the sand-flies of which there was no sign. I started towards the beach through the tourist's clutter when something bit me. Then another and another. HOLY SHIT I WAS COVERED IN THEM.
I can only imagine what we looked like. 4 wildly arm-waving, sprinting people, slightly obscured by a cloud of tiny insects, leaping into a car and speeding off with the windows down. The little biting bastards would not get the hell out. One particularly nasty testicle biter caused a sudden stop not far up the road. Slapping your own nuts seems to hurt more than someone else doing it I found.
We culled the number of freeloading sand-flies in the car and set off again, vowing to view the rest of this particular piece of coastline at high speed through closed windows.
Wanaka was a haven of beer and lounging about. I swear the dopey receptionist of our motel was on something. She gave us free internet. I asked why. “Cos the amount you paid for that suite...wow!” Gee thanks lady.
Now I hate our Travel Consultant even more.
Go back to Day 1- The Airport/Customs/Flight/Airport/Customs Horror.
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