We find places to stop along the way to amuse ourselves. Like Waipara, which is a growing wine area and being that it is arid, clay based soil, probably suiting our wine tastes. We try Waipara Springs first, which is noted in our guidebook as being one of the better wineries, but we are kept waiting longer than feels reasonable by a flustered server, that we decide to move on down the road.
To Greystone wines, just a random pick, and a happy one at that. Not busy at all and with cute puppy named Lily dozing behind the counter which makes their good wines taste even better. The lady working the tasting bar recently had her dog "flogged" as she called it — stolen, we learn when we ask what she means. So she has a new puppy, barely a foot long, named Lily. We suggest Lily become one of the "wine dogs" in the book we've seen (check it at www.winedogs.com).
Jenn has read in one of the brochures that Greystone is a "rising star" on the New Zealand wine scene and the brochure is correct. We end up purchasing three bottles — a Sauvignon Blanc (which we rarely buy, but this one was so darn different and good) a Chardonnay (also minerally and interesting) and a Pinot Noir which has hints of "campfire coals" — too good to turn down. Attempting to distinguish themselves from all the other wineries in NZ, Greystone us hitting some interesting flavour notes (there's a quote for the wine guidebook...)
Pegasus Bay is the other winery we hit — upscale, a bit snooty but with beautiful grounds and a fine looking restaurant. We fall for their Chardonnay, which too is excellent.
We camp at Waikuku Beach, a small motor camp by a surf beach in Pegasus Bay and meet Debz, who works at the camp. She is fascinated to hear we have left our jobs and are on the road and she shares with us her story of a difficult divorce a few years back.
"I said, screw it and I travelled all over Europe, and I did it up — en suites and room service. I never spent so much money in my life. I had the very best time."
She eventually returned to her job working with troubled youth. "The first day I went in, just knew I didn't want to be there. It was the same people, in the same place, complaining about the same things. I couldn't do it. I wrote out my resignation letter. And I told myself, you need to give it a week, Debz. So I did, and after the week, I gave them the letter and walked out. I needed to keep the headspace I'd found when I was away and I wouldn't give that up."
So she went to work for her friends who own the motor camp, "painting fences and jutters (speed bumps) for a summer." Now, age 50, she works at the camp and says she has nights when she wakes up in the dark, all alone, and wonders what she is going to do. She has no house of her own, just a small car. "I just try to keep the faith. I have enough money, I have a roof, food to eat. It always seems to work out, no matter how much I worry."
The beach is good with big waves full of salt and spray, and Debz lends us boogie boards to try out in the waves. There are loads of surfers here so we know we've come to the right place to get tossed around.
Come morning we push further south, through Christchurch where we will return to drop our camper in a month (and so we skip it over for now). Past Christchurch, we enter the Canterbury plains which are even more flat and more boring. To our west we should be able to see the mountains looming over us and beckoning us to come west, but it is cloudy, the sky low and grey and the Southern Alps are hidden from our view.
We stop at a organic produce stand outside of Christchurch and stock up on all things. We stop for coffees. Anything to break up the long, flat drive. It feels as though the east is taking away our mojo a bit. The flat land leaves us feeling just that — flat and uninspired. Except for Kaikoura, the south island is not winning us over. Perhaps this will change when we hit the west coast, but we are determined to finish this coast out, see the south and then get to the Fiordlands, Milford Sound and the west.
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