Today we got up earlier than usual and then had to say goodbye to our bus driver, Chris, and Julie, our tour guide. They would remain on the North Island after dropping us at the ferry terminal in Wellington. Julie’s son-in-law, Josh, would be with us for the second week on South Island.
As the weather grew more and more sour, we loaded up onto the ferry. While in line, one of our fellow travelers heard my coughing (still) and shared some antihistemines with me. At that point, I was still convinced it was allergies. My only symptoms were some mild sinus congestion, and wracking, deep, constant coughing due to the sinus drain.
Josh told us he could not recall weather this bad on the ferry before. It was not safe to walk around, so we all found seats. The journey was 3 hours long and we were meant to eat on board from the restaurant, but it was closed due to the terrible weather causing the deck to heave to and fro.
Our three days in Wellington ended up being the worst weather of the trip. It was cold, it rained, and was cloudy. Wellington was the only city where we pulled on our down jackets. In the middle of summer! But finally, as the ferry left the channel between the two islands, then began winding its way through the smaller islands to reach the South Island, the weather improved considerably. No longer cool, showery, and often cloudy, our weather for the rest of the trip was much warmer.
In the last hour on board the ferry, the restaurant opened up and we were allowed to go outside. Many people did.
A voice over the intercom asked us to come back inside because it was getting close to time to dock the ferry. People who brought vehicles on board were asked to go to their vehicles.
On land once more, we met our new bus driver, Scotty, and the new bus, that we called Brego, after Aragorn’s horse. We spotted large vineyards right away, and noticed from the yellowing grasses that it had been warmer and drier here compared to where we had been.
Our next stop was kayaking on the Pelorus River, and I was relieved that the weather had improved drastically from the cold rain of the morning. By the time we stopped it was sunny and hot and we were eager to get off the stuffy bus.
I was nervous about kayaking. I understand “kayak” to mean an enclosed type of canoe, that your bottom half is trapped inside, and if it flips you need to have specialized knowledge of how to flip yourself back over while still attached to the kayak, or else you’ll die. So it was a big leap of faith for me to try this. BUT! What we were asked to climb into were merely inflatable canoes. I am now not sure what defines a kayak vs. a canoe. I do have canoe experience, and was totally comfortable getting into these vessels. Pedro did not, so I took the back, knowing it was the place to sit to control direction and keep an eye on things. That was a good decision, as it took some time for Pedro to figure out how to use the oar and for us both to figure out how to work together.
In the interest of not destroying our electronics, neither one of us brought a camera or a phone, but other people did, and we have used their photos.
I am sad that we don’t have more photos. It was a really beautiful river. At one point we pulled the boats to the side and ran around on the rocks – half the people brought cameras/phones and were taking photos. Then most people moved on down the river and Pedro and I and a few others stayed to swim. The day was hot and the cool water was beautiful and clear and felt amazing.
Most people were changed and waiting when we got back. We heard there was a pretty view from the Pelorus Bridge, so Pedro and I ran over there. He got only a couple photos when we were called back to get onto the bus again.
It was a short trip from there to the Tides hotel in Nelson. It was a very pretty place with art everywhere and soon became our second-favourite hotel of the whole trip.
The antihistemine I took earlier in the day had a noticeable impact and I was eager to get more, so Pedro and I set out into town to find a pharmacy. We were also hungry, and had been tempted by Josh’s raving about a particular burger place. We walked a short distance into town from the hotel, admiring more art along the way, and the pretty little town of Nelson.
Our biggest cultural shock in New Zealand: learning that you can’t get your burgers rare! We each ordered, and Pedro asked the waitress if he could get his medium rare. “Your burger?” she asked. She said she was going to have to ask, and left us. She came back and told us they cannot serve burgers medium rare because of the health code. So, we agreed to eat them cooked all the way through. The burgers were not that great, and both of us considered them overcooked and a bit dry.
On our way out, we spotted fellow travelers, a couple from Brisbane. Out of amusement, we shared our joke with them that the restaurant wouldn’t cook them medium-rare for us. “Oh no,” replied our friends, “You can’t do that. It’s unsafe. Burgers are not like steaks.” We were surprised to find out then, that in neither New Zealand or Australia can you get a rare burger. Pedro and I have been ordering our burgers from restaurants rare and bloody for decades! So far, we feel pretty healthy despite that.
We went back to our room and enjoyed an easy evening, and I got an immense kick out of listening to the noisy tiny seagulls off our back patio.
I did not get the best photos of them that day, but I did the next day. So I’ll leave my bird count for tomorrow.
Conscious Engagement 
As you would expect, I don’t like the sound of that cough. I see Pedro got the hang of rowing. Interesting about the burgers – they must be safer in US
At the end of our tour, when we asked each other what we liked best, the kayaking was one of Pedro’s favourites. I think we will find a place to rent them and practice more this summer, in the waterways around Portland.
I had that same question in my mind about burgers in the US. In order to make them safe to not cook all the way through, there must be some kind of controls on the quality of raw meat. Fast food places all use frozen thin burgers and they are cooked thoroughly. But nice restaurants that serve $18 burgers will happily cook them however you ask, so there must be regulations on the raw meat itself.
I just did a little research. US menus all have a disclaimer on them (“Consuming raw or undercooked meats, poultry, seafood, shellfish, or eggs may increase your risk of foodborne illness, especially if you have certain medical conditions.”). Apparently if a customer acknowledges this warning, and asks for it anyway, then the restaurant can serve it pink inside.
Beautiful river … bummer about the cough. On the burger thing … I would never eat a hamburger even medium rare here in the states. Steak, of course. But ground meat, not a chance 🥹
Ha! That is really funny. Our Australian friends seemed to have the same reaction — whaa?! But you were a cook for so many years, and you have your reasons. Dried out burgers are not worth eating, in my opinion, and a little pink inside makes them super juicy and tasty for me. I’ll be eating them medium rare from now on, I confess. :o) Pedro and I had a whole conversation about how the US lets us have “choice” in ways that don’t threaten authority, but squelches us if we want to have a voice in governance. The overall impression is that we are a free people, but the truth is that we are oppressed, even if we eat our burgers pink. So yeah… we have had all the thoughts.