South Island Bus Adventure Day 3: Wellington - Picton - Nelson

Day 3 was another travel day, and my introduction to the South Island. I checked out of the hostel, took a bus to the Railway Station, where a shuttle bus was waiting to take me to the Interislander Ferry Terminal. I checked in, got my ticket, and sat down in a large waiting room waiting for my ferry, the Arahura.

For whatever reason, ferry travel has never been as interesting or exciting to me as bus, train, or air travel. I found an empty seat, got a sandwich (roast vege) and a bag of Bluebird chips (salt & vinegar) from the on-board cafe, and watched the scenery go by. It was a gorgeous day, the perfect weather for a ferry crossing with visibility all the way to the horizon. After ten minutes of sailing in Wellington Harbour, there was a clear line on the water where its colo(u)r shifted from murky green to azure blue, which it remained for the rest of the trip. After I had lunch, I went up to the observation deck to get some photos.

The North and South Islands aren't really that far apart (you can see the South Island from high points in Wellington), so the 3.5 hour ferry crossing spends more time traveling horizontally than vertically. The Arahura arrived in the coastal town of Picton ahead of schedule. The sight of Picton was a harbinger of the amazing views to be found in the South Island. Imagine if you took an ice cream scoop and dug a nice big crater of green ice cream, then popped a town in the centre of that valley. That was Picton--surrounded by tall green hills and a tiny access to the Cook Strait.

My destination for the day, Nelson, was a 2.5 hour drive away, through a road that started in the flat vineyard country before snaking its way through narrow valleys, surrounded by mountains and green hills filled with sheep and cows. I can provide pictures of this place that I took from the window of the bus, but I can't reproduce the feeing of being there, surrounded by the high hills of the countrysides. It was as if I was being enveloped by the Earth--it was easy to become disoriented and forget where you were.

Nelson itself had it all--a coast on the Tasman Bay, mountains on two sides, and an easily walkable downtown grib with shops, restaurants, and nightlight. It's no surprise that the city is well known for dozens of high quality backpackers hostels...although I was left to wonder which came first: the hostels or the city?

In the parking lot of the Intercity bus terminal, several hostels had representatives there with signs and vans ready to whisk you away to your accomodation. Uli, the manager of the hostel I staying at that night, was there too with a golden yellow, rickety van. "Traveling light, huh?" he said as he loaded my small bag into the bag, which made me smile. I take a lot of pride in traveling with small luggage, and I love when people acknowledge my efforts.

The backpackers itself was set in what seemed to be a big old house, although it could have just as easily been a purpose built hostel. It was about 10 times smaller than the 300-bed YHA in Wellington, and the ground floor was a comfortable living space with couches, a wood fire, and a giant world map on one wall (I couldn't help noticing that I've seen so little of it). I sat in a comfortable chair and recharged batteries--both my cell phone's and my own--while completing the first read-through of my book. It was a very agreeable space--the fire provided some much needed warmth, tasteful music was being pumped in at an appropriate volume, and Uli served hot chocolate pudding (basically just chocolate cake) and ice cream at 8 PM. It reminded me of the living room I hope to have one day.

The room was a 4-share, and by the looks of it, my three roommates had been staying here a while. Their stuff was strewn about the floor, and it looked like they had settled in for the long haul. Two of them were Spanish guys who barely spoke a word to me, and the third was still asleep in bed when I arrived at 5 PM. He was up reading when I went to bed later on, but he talked like someone who'd been fighting a cold or some other illness for several days. "Sorry I have to get up so early," I told him, as my bus left at 7:15 AM the next morning. "No worries," he said, "the other guys get up at 5 AM anyway." And that they did.

So Nelson became simply a place to spend the night--I had a ten hour bus ride waiting for me the next day.

Coming up next: Nelson - Fox Glacier, and a bus ride to remember.