Kaikoura to north of Half Moon Bay (18.30 miles/29.46 kms)

Today was a real start and stop day, and as always, different.

I started a little late as I over did the saying, prepare for the worse, and hope for the best. I was preparing for a long few days with no place to eat or buy food, so I over-shopped. I bought way too much food and I couldn’t pack it well in the backpack. I bought two 1.5 liter bottles of carbonated water and two 1 liter bottles of orange juice. That is in addition to the 3 liters of water I usually carry. I packed and repacked and finally stuffed everything in the packs without an inch to spare.

As soon as I started I could feel the difference in the weight of the Wheelie, not only the weight itself but also how much harder it was to pull because it wasn’t balanced. It makes a big difference in how easily it pulls if it’s balanced to the point that there is very little weight on the waist strap and my hips.

I stopped at a cafe bakery and should just have eaten some of the food I have. Leaving town there is a slight uphill and it felt like I was climbing a steep hill. Thankfully most of the road today ran along the coast and was fairly level. If it had been steep it would have been a really challenge.

The traffic was fairly light and was pleasantly sporadic because of the construction stops. Vehicles would come in a large group as they were allowed past the stops, and then there would be no traffic for ten or fifteen minutes. It made trekking much easier because most of the time I could see the road in the distance and anticipate when the string of vehicles were coming. Most of the time I’d just move over and let them pass, and then I’d have fifteen minutes with no cars.

I came over a hill to an area with a beautiful ocean view, and then I saw that there was a little Maori cemetery there. I had to stop and walked through the cemetery and read some of the inscriptions on the various headstones. Some of them were beautifully worded and I could almost picture their lives when they were here so many years ago.

I did encounter the first construction stop after about twelve miles. The flagman has me wait until the safety driver, Loic, came over to talk with me. He apologized and said he’d have to transport me because of the danger. No argument from me as I understood. He said he could give me a ride all the way through the different sections of the construction areas, two I couldn’t walk, or he would drop me off about two kilometers (1.2 miles) beyond the first one, and then I could walk to the next stop. I opted to get out once past this stop and walk to the next stop.

Loic is a typical worker on this road construction that is here from another country with a work visa. The driver at the next stop was from Argentina, all have been here since after the earthquake.

The spot where I was dropped was a nice new section of roadway with a wide concrete walk path separated from the road by a guard rail. I was in heaven walking on it but it stopped after less than a quarter mile and then went back to the narrow shoulder.

The walk along the coastline here was beautiful. It is very rocky, and it was pointed out to me that much of the rock formations sticking out of the water were lifted up by the earthquake.

Everywhere I walked I could see hundreds, if not thousands, of seals sunning themselves on the rocks below. I could hear the barking, and sometimes a sound that sounded like a small child crying.

Just before the next stop I came to the quirky, and somewhat famous, Min’s Bin. It’s an old trailer that is a fish and chips shop in the middle of nowhere. Seriously, nothing else is around except this old trailer. It specializes in local fish, and crayfish (lobster). The menu is short, fish or lobster, and battered chips (fries).

I couldn’t pass it up as I had heard about it, and besides, it would save me from eating my freeze dried meal. I felt like ordering from the Soup Nazi, if you’ve ever seen that episode of Seinfeld. There was a list of different fish, and I asked what one of them was, and Marcel just said, “no other fish, we just have one kind! That’s it, all we have left.” Ok, I’ll have that, whatever that fish is? As it turns out it was shark, locally caught of course, as whatever is caught is what’s served fresh within days. The crayfish, not very big, were from $89 to $99 ($68). Ouch!

The inside of the trailer is very basic, counter, stove, and frying pans. Everyone’s order is one at a time. Marcel was just as quirky as the whole place, but I liked something about him. He kind of gave me a hard time about trekking instead of riding in a car. He kind of had that California surfer dude look and talk.

I got my order, and it looked great, and I went outside and sat on the bench to eat it. I took several bites, and it was as good as it looked. Those fresh batter fries were great too. Carbs, I need them. I was glad I stopped. In the middle of eating I decided to get up and take a picture of the trailer. I was taking the picture when I saw and heard the man on the bench next to me running to my table to chase away the flock of seagulls that had descended on my food! What was left of my fish lay on the table, but my fries still looked good.

I couldn’t finish the fries because it was a huge portion, even without the rest of my fish. I was so full, fish or not. I brought in my plate with the fish on it because I was not going to give it to those birds! Marcel asked if something was wrong with the fish and I told him what happened. Oh man, dude, I’ll fry you another piece, no problem. No thanks, I am pretty full. And besides, I was thinking, I’ve got no room to pack it, and I’m not crazy about cold fish.

I asked Marcel where he was from in New Zealand, and he said Christchurch, but originally he came here from the Netherlands when he was five, he’s fifty-two now. No, it can’t be again, like the Dutch man in met in Dunedin. Wow, I was five when I came to the States. Then our conversation was in Dutch. Funny, as this is at least the third time I got to speak Dutch to someone here. I knew there was something about him I liked.

Marcel came to Kaikoura to surf when he was young and has stayed here for that since. The surf is only good in the winter when the swells roll in bigger, and it is cold.

It is his friend’s business and he helps him out. After the earthquake there was no business so they live shipped the crayfish overseas, and by boat out of here. But with the construction workers everywhere it has to be good for business. I thanked him and handed him my credit card. He put up his hand and handed me another bottle of water, and said in his surfer dude way, “don’t worry about it, it’s cool.”

I got to the second construction stop after about two miles. This time there were two women that transported me about another three kilometers (1.8 miles). I didn’t get their names, but one was a Kiwi and the other from Argentina.

They dropped me off on another new section of road with a walkway. It was crowded with tourists, all looking at the seals below. I started on the walkway, but had to turn around and walk back because it was closed by a locked gate.

After this nice section the road was fairly rough and with varying shoulders. There were three more construction areas, only one requiring traffic stoppage. It was a short distance and they just stopped traffic and had me walk through with a truck with flashing lights behind me. The two other sites did not have any lane closures. So you can see why I said my day was a start and stop day.

By the time I got through all the construction it was well after 4:00. I didn’t really see or think I could camp anyplace between the construction sites. I was in my usual concerned frame of mind about finding a camp spot late in the day. Once I got past the last construction site I saw this spot between the road and coastline. It was thick with grass but it makes for a good wind break as there’s been a good ocean breeze all day long. Besides, the flattened grass adds padding under the tent.

I don’t have any cell service so I am not sure where my next spot to stop might be for tomorrow? I am thankful I stopped at the Non’s Bin so I can just set up and relax and not worry about eating. I am laying here now cozy in my tent and listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks below me. And just as I am writing this I hear the sound of rain on the tent.

Best wishes to all,

Ted