View from the Kaikoura peninsula walkway, atop the bluffs
Anyways. After Kaikoura, it was Picton for 2 hours...enough time to meet Anna-the-Pom and rent a car to head to Nelson. Nelson apparently gets the most sunshine in all of NZ...I can't really attest to that, seeing as how it was pretty rainy/overcast for three outta the four days we were there. But the day we chose to go to Abel Tasman for a day-long kayaking trip was super nice out, so I guess that's all that matters! It was a long 16-km paddle trek, and we saw several quiet, secluded beaches, heaps of seals, some jellyfish (one guy poked at with his oar, so I didn't have to) dozens upon dozens of bird species, and one particularly impressive miracle... me successfully supressing the urge to smoke my kayaking partner in the back of the head with my oar. She claimed that she had just been in Australia, where she had done a sea kayaking trip. So, of course, she must have thought it would be the most logical thing if I sat in the back and steered (even after me telling her I had no idea what I was doing), while she sat at the front. There were some particularly choppy parts, and I pretended I was Robinson Crusoe and paddled for all I was worth. But I couldn't understand why everyone was so far ahead of us. Then I realized it was because she had stopped paddling. And she was sitting back admiring the view, and for all the good it was doing, the oar might as well have been stuck up her...nose. Then she'd leisurely pick up the oar again, and do some dipsy paddles...then stop again. This continued a few times, and I sat behind her fuming, but biting my tongue. One of the guides, Katherine, came up beside us and asked Jennifer from San Francisco (aka lazy stewpid jurkface by this point) if she was okay, and she said yes. Questioned a second time, about 15 minutes later, she said "my hands are cramping up." And the third time, the million-dollar question was answered with "Yeah...I just don't want to get wet." My laser-beam death ray eyes were boring holes in the back of her head. But maybe I'm just being insensitive, because I know that when I signed myself up to paddle out on the ocean in a little plastic boat, the last thing I expected to happen was get wet. All barbs aside, it was an awesome day, and we were all hurting by the end...which was kinda cool, because it really felt like we had accomplished something!
Blue Thunder, aka Troy
From R to L: Moi, Sarah the Pom, Stewpid Lazy Jurkface in background, leaning over kayak
Anna and I headed back to Picton to drop off the rental car (thinking I had the hang of driving on the other side of the road and shifting with my left hand, I drove on the way back...and I only scared Anna about three or four times...but she's theatrical). She headed to Wellington, and I stayed for a wine tour, my first ever. I decided I like wine tours. Everyone's just so happy. One couple from Australia were particularly delightful (Alison reminded me of my aunty Carol) and told me I reminded them of Delta Goodrem...the other two guys from the UK agreed. I had no idea who this Delta Goodrem was, but I decided that anyone named after a geological formation of a landform where the mouth of a river flows into an ocean, sea, desert, estuary, lake or another river, couldn't be all that bad. (FYI she's an actress/singer from Aus, who I had seen on tv here but just didn't know it was her...and who I thought I bore no resemblance to at all, but meh. I'll take what I can get!)
Manhandling Troy on the open road
The Gargle-Swish technique perfected by seasoned wine connoisseurs
Then onwards to Wellington, the country's capital (via the ferry, where no alcohol consumption, therefore no drunk and disorderly arrests ensued)...I at least went to see the outside of the Parliament buildings. Then onto Napier...a great town that I adore, and didn't really want to leave. I was surprised that I was the only one on the backpacker bus to opt for staying at the Napier Prison...how many times do you get to stay in an old prison?! I think the fact that the bus couldn't drop people off right at the prison because the road was too narrow and couldn't turn around might have factored in...but it makes no difference to me, because this is the coolest place I've stayed so far!!! I was actually in my own little cell...female dorms were all full, so they gave me my own cell for the same price...muah ha! It was tiny and was kinda creepy at first, but it was so nice to not have to share a room with seven other people! I did the tour ...it was NZ's first prison, opened up in the 1800's and actually just closed in 1993. Was abandoned for 10 years, then reopened as a hostel four years ago. When it closed in '93, only five of the cells had toilets...all the others were still using pots. There were only ever four hangings here, and there's actually a cemetary with only one grave of one of the prisoner's hung. Another hang-ee was buried just outside the main wall, and his grave is marked with a bump. He was Maori, so that's why he was not buried within the prison walls. So, it definitely was a neat experience, sleeping in an old jail and hearing the torrid tales (my cell was occupied by the "good boys" only, so as far as they know, nothing terrifying or alarming happened).
My very own cell door, complete with deadbolt on the outside
After Napier, I left the Magic bus' well beaten path, and jumped onto the InterCity to Gisborne (smelliest bus ride ever...first the lady with the gag-inducing stale cigarette smell...then the school boy with two random patches shaved into his hairline and a serious case of B.O.) ...first city in the world to see the sun, as well as a sweet surfer town. The rain followed me all the way from Napier though, and by the time I arrived in Gisborne, it was torrential rain. Upon my arrival, I was quite dismayed to realize my plan of going to the travel center to find a hostel was kiboshed...seeing as the travel center was closed. I figured I could walk to the main streets of Gisborne and find a hostel...not an easy feat carrying three bags, an umbrella and a map. Crossing the street, I saw this long, huge puddle that I couldn't really get around, so I traipsed through it...only to discover it came up mid-calf. Luckily I was inappropriately attired in flip-flops and long shorts, which still managed to drag through the water. Then I missed getting nailed twice in the same freakin' traffic circle (the pedestrian lights were out due to construction). So I wandered the city streets, suprised to see that even though Gisborne is over 30,000 people, most shops were shut down by 5. I was about to use the payphone to call a hostel to see if they did pick-ups, but as I was throwing down all my luggage, I heard someone behind me ask if I needed a ride somewhere. Turning around, I saw a Maori woman in her mid-30s giving me a big, toothless grin. I had never been so glad to see a strange, toothless woman. She had three little kids with her, and I am not ashamed to say I jumped right into her dirty little van. As if reading my mind, she said not to worry, they were Christians, and she was also delighted to hear I was from Canada ..."Celine Dion!!!", "Shania Twain!!!" ...and she delivered me safely to the Flying Nuns backpackers (first a prison, then an old convent).
My time in NZ is coming to a close, and I'm finding myself burning through the north island. As I'm finally finishing this post, I'm in Taupo, but taking off again tomorrow morning. Ten more days of Kiwiness...
I was Carolyn the Canadian from Calgary (aka Canada), according to the crew...they almost didn't let me jump because of my medical condition. They said they would have added American to it, but the Americans would find a way to sue them over it.
Because I make decisions first, then think about them after, I decided to do the fall backwards...which was rated five outta five underoos on the scary scale. 
