Train to Kaikoura (plus corrections - more time on computer)

The train from Picton to Kaikoura was not what I had expected. I suppose I had the idea that a pioneering country - so rugged and new, would have some massive trains with big powerful engines and oversized wheels. But no - it was quite a narrow gauge, and the train was much smaller in proportion to a human being than a British train. In fact I would go as har as to say cramped. I was also surprised at the number of announcements and safety cards. Perhaps they wished they were operating an airoplane.

There was an observation car at the rear of the train, which had no sides and which was exhilratingly windy and wild. I managed to get few snaps of people on the beach walking on the edge of the Pacific, and even some people surfing. (Not easy at that speed, and in that wind)

In between times we sat quite companiobly together. Sharing headphobnes at one point to listen to some Finnish music I had on my mp3, and looking at each others photos.

It was a lovely ride.

I noticed this bloke with a wide variety of lenses, and camera alternatives snapping away, and discovered that he was from Helsinki, so we had some conversation. He had come via South America. When he left Helsinki it was - 30!

"And now . . .look at this - " he pointed to the world around him, bathed in warm misty blue air.

The Panorama Hotel is on the southern edge of the bay quite a walk away from the town (about the distance from Weavers to Dursely- have I already told you that?), but near the seal colony. So the next morning we walked up to the point, and there sleeping in the grass, or on the rocks loads of seals. It was amazing to be so close to real live seals - sometimes less than 10 meters away.

Mum walked with her stick and took lots of photos as well. It was a very happy and relaxed morning, which left us tired but happy by the time we got back to the Motel.

After a little sleep, we went a similar distance the other way into town and did some shopping, and Mum went back to the motel.

ONE WAY TICKET

You can only

Make your own journey

Once

What is yours

Is only and inevitably

Yours

The texture and

Touch the colour is

All.

This ticket this

Life is not transferable

Breathe

Until we meet again. . .

Me, Mum & The World