Across the Mountains

As aforementioned in my previous post, I have not been required for participation in the joys of consistent employment. Do not let your hearts be heavy with the thought of my idle hands, for as I also previously alluded I have taken this opportunity to proceed in exploring my surroundings.*
Encouraged by the promise of exceptional weather, I proceeded to ascend the mountain road which leads to a place I deem the very essence of what middle earth was meant to portray. Golden Bay, admittedly made more charming by the season**, is where my desire to explore led me. 

Too many times I have been told to visit the shores of Whawhariki (Fa-fa-riki) Beach and pay a visit to Farewell Spit. for too long I have been the solemn observer of the sun sinking behind the forms to the west; shapes oddly similar to the destruction I bring to Gift wrap when attempting to cut a straight line. 
When the weather promised to oblige, and finally I admitted I could not spend another consecutive day at the library, I packed up the car and made my way to the other side of the mountains. 

I made my way to the beach of much promised beauty. It did not disappoint. 
The next day I spent hours walking through a farm on the top of a cliff and feeling as though I was walking through a novelist's imagination. 
I discovered my distaste for wind and sand, and preference for beholding the far-reaching, untouched coast from the wild hills above. 
In the mornings I ventured to nearby beaches to watch the sun greet my time-zone and enjoy breakfast with nothing but the waves and birds for company. 
If I have not already made my feelings plain, I had a wonderful time. All was not bliss, though, it did rain one evening as I returned from my venturing, but before it lulled me to sleep by tapping incessantly on the roof of the car, it provided me with a promise for more beauty to come. 
That night I parked in a little freedom camping area where I met a lovely 70 year old woman from Southland. She drives her shiny blue bus to the top of the south for three months every winter to, as she put it, "Be lazy." She provided me with the compliment of saying I have a "Soft voice." ("...for an american" was her implied meaning) She also gave me some sort of fish fritter cake on buttered bread, it was weird and delicious. 

So, there's that. 





*I'm reading Jane Eyre at the moment, do forgive my excessively old-school word choice. 
** Far less tourists and backpackers (which I realise I am one of) 

Comments

  1. Great pictures. Thx for allowing me to live through them.

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  2. Great pictures. Thx for allowing me to live through them.

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  3. Thank goodness you are not reading Wuthering Heights...I'd have to send you a happy pill😉 Love, Mom

    ReplyDelete
  4. Thank goodness you are not reading Wuthering Heights...I'd have to send you a happy pill😉 Love, Mom

    ReplyDelete

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