Day 57: Abel Tasman to Punakaiki

This morning we started our drive to Punakaiki further down the west coast. Passing through lots of small towns, all the roads are super wide and apparently it dates back to horse and cart days, which is pretty cool.

The further into the mountains we go I realise more why the country's Maori name means 'land of the long white cloud'. Being so high up there are just long streaks of cloud that look so low I swear Matthias (our nearly 7 foot German) would skim it with his head. Halfway through the mountains today we stopped by a bend in the creek where it is thought the first Maori tribes in the South Island would have stopped on their crossings between the west and east side of the islands.

We stopped at a popular seal spot. Me and my new Spanish and New York buds, Sofia and Mike, felt a bit cheated as some how we each separately assumed we were going to be able to 'meet' the seals... But turns out we could just do a clifftop rock and spot them camouflaged against the black rocks, sunning themselves before going for a dip in the fierce looking waves.

In the afternoon we reached Punakaiki, famous for the Pancake Rocks, which got their name from the visible layers of rock lying on top of each other. There's a pancake cafe on site for anyone left disappointed they can't eat the rocks.. Sadly the time of day was wrong to see the natural blow holes formed by the rocks but the walk was awesome nonetheless. Got to stop saying awesome though... Too much time with our true New Zealander guides who says little without adding 'Sweet as, bro' or 'awesome' to the end of the sentence.

Actually, watching Auto's relationship with Matthias bloom in the front seat is almost enough entertainment for the trip on its own... They could not be more different but are seriously two of the most hilarious people. 

In the evening we checked into our hostel, my favourite one so far. It's almost a tree house hidden away in the forest. Once you've found your way through the trees, over a creek and out to the coasts you're met with an amazing black beach. Dark grey rock, tiny grey and black pebbles tickling underfoot and mini mussels bunched together on the stone. The sea means business, no swimming tonight but just watching it crashing onto shore (catching me in my jeans up to the knee at one point...) was enough. It feels like the setting of some famous five novel or some old English ghost tale.

For dinner it's green mussels in wine and onion for starter followed by roast chicken and qumran (Nz potato). He rest of the evening is spent sat in a good ol circle of love with some cliched charades and guitar playing in our little wooden cabin. Cliched maybe, but so much fun, a very cool group of people. Thank god.