Off to the west coast July 5th

We got up early to fix eggs and head on to the west coast but the stove wasn;t working. The South African women knew what to do - of course - and microwaved hers. I guess it worked but it looked more like gruel than eggs so we passed on that. While she was microwaving she went on about the roads - no shoulders, can;t take pictures, "Harold, watch the road!", "Oh no, it might snow, pull out the chains!"

Harold loves South Africa - he's the type who would say he doesn't like driving in snow here, but in South Africa the snow isn't slippery. Went back to the bakery and got a baguette for the road, which turned out to be a good idea.

The scenery is still breathtaking and we're just about to turn onto the road over the pass to the coast when we notice that there's a truck and cones across it and a few cars and trucks in line. It's snowing and the pass is closed - it has been since midnight and they don't know when it will open. We settle in and start to wait. Of course it's sunny where we are, some of the first we've seen but it must be awful in the passes to be closed this long, or so we think.

We get a real collection of characters waiting with us. There's a truck driver who walks around with shorts that are too tight and too short with pearly white legs, black socks and black shoes - he's "black skiivy guy". The ubiquitous Germans are next to us - one of them is "butt crack guy" - striped underwear that slid way down over his black tights.

The gossip starts spreading about road conditions - the whole west coast is closed for two days, the pass will be closed for another day and night, if they let you go you need chains. All this from a simple statement from the road guy who is the only one who knows anything and all he says is "they're working on it."

We finally get the go ahead about 2:30 and it's off to the races. Everyone had been milling around, talking, kicking a soccer ball, playing catch and suddenly something changed. Someone pulled away from the crowd and started sauntering over to their car. A few started walking a little quicker and then broke into a jog. Everyone left standing ran back, started their cars and peeled out. We almost had a few accidents ran at the starting line.

We were near the front and kept jour place. A few people passed but we wanted to keep our place ahead of trucks and vans. It was supposed to snow again and we wanted to get over the passes.

Why it took so long to clear we couldn't figure. A few inches of snow for a few miles. They used road graders, not snowplows so they take forever to get to wherever they have to go and then they spread liquid de-icer and gravel - they call it grit - instead of sand. These were the New Zealand Alps though and it was beautiful.

When we hit the valleys we made time. They're like Montana or Wyoming - big fertile plains with cattle surrounded by steep mountains and rivers running down the middle. You keep waiting for Hoss and Little Joe to gallop past on their horses. We just kept going, we weren't going to get caught again. We knew we wouldn't make it as far as we wanted but we'd get close.

The low passes were find - green ferns and moss covering cliffs that come right to the road with small waterfalls splashing on the windshield. We got to the town we wanted to stay in but noticed a smell and then a sign - "Coal Town, visit the Coal Museum" Well it took about two seconds to decide to go on to Karamea and try to reach it before it got too dark.

There's a warm current here that changes the vegetation. Palm trees line the road along the coast and the mountains come down to them - just like Hawaii. But go past the coastal range and it's snow on the peaks, with Swiss valleys and fields. All of a sudden the beach road turns into what they call the bluffs. Back to the jungle but enough altitude to make it icy. Icy, dark, narrow, twisting roads. It beats breathing coal dust all night.

Finally got to Karamea but had no idea where to find the hostel. There was a small food store still open and a very nice Stepford woman let us use the phone to call the hostel - it was full. They recommended a motel they own but we called around to a few others to check prices. They were all the same so we headed down the road and picked the wrong one - it was the only one with lights on, what did we know. There were stinky splashy bed covers and a heater on the wall that warmed up the top 6 feet of the room - it had high peaked ceilings. All we needed was some sleep so we just got all the covers we could find and went to sleep.

extra stuff
how could fb forget that the guy at the smelly place had a connection with federer.... his friends mother cut rogers hair when he was a little boy.. fed that is.... and the hubby was a mate of feds dad... thats important..

did watch a great rugby game at that place.... never watched a whole game before.. really fast and fun ... wellington won.. they beat south africa.. poor harold..... but the "wellington all blacks"... team name.... were the victors..... .....