And in came the rain and those roaring forties

So we wake his morning to a full-on storm. I mean rain, not showers with the wind behind it. In this weather it is easy to imagine how a ship's captain could not hold his vessel against the raging of mother nature. And with the seas whipped up, we have a better view of some of the rock hazards. Bigger waves are breaking off-shore on hidden dangers. Altogether very bleak. We hear the coach arrive to collect the tour group as we live in bed a few minutes longer to ward off the cold. Slowly the other rooms empty and before long, we are the last room to leave.

We have received an email from the airline saying that due to operational requirements our flight is now departing later. We are now leaving King Island at 17:25 with arrival back in Wynyard at 17:55. From there we have a half hour drive to our accommodation in Penguin. I have managed to get in touch with Bruce Harpley who lives a few miles away in Ulverstone and we are catching up for breakfast tomorrow morning en-route to Launceston. 

Gen again went into the Bakehouse for our breakfast and hooray, has managed to get me a Crayfish Pie (at $15!). It is delicious. In a soft curry sauce, which is what the Taswegians seem to put all their seafood in for pies - think fish, think prawns, think scallops (roe on) and now also think crayfish (lobster)! It had plenty of crayfish - both in big chunks and smaller pieces generously spread amongst the sauce. She bought herself another egg and bacon roll - both had been cooked to order. She enjoys her roll and I made sure I left her some of that scrumptious pie to taste!

Given the unpleasant weather today we decided to drive along the other fully sealed road on the Island. We had wanted to visit the Cultural Centre but as the main 'tourist season' (March) is done, it is now only open by appointment. 

You know, there is a huge opportunity going begging here. The motel, which is for sale, is very tired and the restaurant is under different management. Yet the coastal location is supberb overlooking the rolling sea with private access to a small rock sheltered beach. I have no idea what the sale value is, but even if it were $1M, another investment of $500K+ to revamp the rooms, restaurant and the grounds (including the access road) and you could have a great return with groups - and especially golf groups. But I digress (again) 

Naracoopa is sited on the east coast about halfway up the coast and the mid-point between Grassy and Cape Wickham where we went on our first day. 

Naracoopa reminded us of many of the sleepy coastal townships that can be found right along the East Coast of Australia. In fact, it reminds me very much of Woodgate of a few years ago. There is one street fronting the beach with most of the homes being holidays homes that are deserted at present. There is evidence of some newer building works happening - you know the time - those slip, sultry buildings in the colour of their surroundings so as not to compete with the landscape - filled with timber and glass. Personally, I can't imagine that in a few years they will remain as schmick. The timber will cop a lot of weather, as will the tin rooves like we have seen elsewhere on the island, and although I would love to be sitting in a warm house looking out through large picture windows - but honestly, keeping them clean against all that salty water would be a *itch to clean! (Gotta love our textured Kosciusko glassed windows back home - they require little cleaning!  😉)

Just "a few kilometres north", remembering the mud map as opposed to anything accurate, near Sea Elephant Bay, is supposed to be Blowhole Beach. So off we set. The road is on the map, so we are safe, albeit somewhat sandy. Gen does a great job navigating the potholes (and then we come on some Council workers doing some grading!) and when we get out to Blowhole Beach there is already one car there. Given the soft sand and the rain, it is decided that Gen will go have a look and see whether the walk is Maria-doable. She comes back in less than 10 minutes to say that if there is a blowhole, she can't find it, nor can she find any landform that would even remotely look like it could produce a spout of water of any form. By now, there are another two cars parked here - and we cross paths with another couple of people that we've seen a few times over the last two days. 

We are the second car to leave and we turn left back towards Naracoopa and not continuing on an increasingly challenging road further to Sea Elephant Bay. There is a sign advertising coffee, but like other operators, I guess they have headed for the mainland for winter - closed. So a quick nip down to the long wharf where once there was sealing prevalent, but no longer.

Turning back for Currie we opt to stay on the fully sealed road and this time not take the scenic route. Gen is now sick of gravel roads and sandy tracks - she can now say "been there, done that!" Its getting late for lunch and although we have loved the great pies from the King Island Bakehouse, we are also craving something that is not a pie by now. One of the three golf courses on the Island is next door to the motel where we stayed, so we called in there to see if we could get some lunch.

Yes, we can. It is fairly basic fare but my burger and Gen's battered fish (Gummy = shark) and chips was fresh and crisp. This restaurant is being operated by people of Indian descent - if only I could be sure that the curry on offer was not too spicy, I would have preferred to give it a go, but alas my mouth and stomach take so little heat these days.😪

We continued down to Beach which is just beyond the motel, down the next dune so to speak and found the other big industry here - the King Island Kelp Factory. 

Bull kelp is harvested from the beaches of King Island by independent contractors. At present there are only 6 licensed harvesters, who must take only from what mother nature has 'donated'. They cannot harvest from the rocks. The kelp is dried on high, hanging S shaped hooks, then racks to air dry, before being fed into wood fired kilns for dehydrating. Most of the Australian supply is shipped to Ireland for processing into Alginate Acid which is used extensively in the food and pharmaceutical industries, just to name two.

One last destination to visit before we leave this interesting destination. Located close to the airport, we visited the award winning King Island Distillery. Owned and operated and Heidi Weitjins, this was a gem of a find. They distil King Island gin, vodka, brandy and  limoncello. Gen is really taken with the Ruby Grapefruit Spirit, and thankfully they can arrange post, so we relieve them of some of their stock (hic). One gin in particular is interesting. Heidi's partner is a cray-fisher and they took a barrel of their gin and aged it at sea! It has a different taste - no doubt influenced by the cask being exposed to the salt-ladden air. The cellar door is actually their distilling plant, and as we taste and discuss each sample with Heidi, her partners are beginning to bottle the last of the Gin from that sea-aged barrel! We drove right past it at first, following google maps which takes you beyond it. The trick is to follow the signs, even if it doesn't look like a cellar door! More evidence of the poor maps.

At the Airport, we leave the car, with keys in the ignition, as per instructions, and head into the terminal. We are early by about 2 hours, but really, there is little else to see given the remaining time. There are only 9 people booked on the plane, so again they have allocated the back row to us. BUT, there are about 40-50 people at the airport terminal. We see two jets - a Sharp Airlines and a REX plane plus a number of smaller planes. Turns out, we watch 4 other planes leave before ours lands, disgourging another tour group, and is ready for departure. Our plan is flying to Launceston via Wynyard.

Gen is very very tense - it is very cloudy and she is apprehensive about possible turbulence. One belted in, she grabs the seatbelt from the seat between us and wraps it tightly around her hand. I tell her that the trick is to try not to get too tensed up and suggest that she hold my hand instead. "But I don't want to hurt you" she says. You won't I tell her. The take-off was a little bumpy, but it was surprisingly smooth thereafter. I keep asking her if she can see land in an effort to keep her mind off her fear and she visibly relaxes. Finally we see land and can identify The Nut at Stanley and Table Cape just a little further east before we touch down.

So, King Island done and dusted. I am glad we went, but it was nothing like what we were expecting. All I can say is that the marketeers have done a fabulous job. For the Island itself, it needs some major investment and renewal.

Back in the car, or as Gen 'lovingly' refers to it, the POS, having paid the ridiculous sum of $12 for 3 days parking, we head back through Burnie and further east to our overnight stop in Penguin. The motel is right on the main road, with a rail line plus freight train behind us. The unit is HUGE and well set-out and supplied for someone with mobility challenges.

Bison, what bison?

After breakfast this morning we checked out of the lovely Hotel Skeppsholmen and ordered a taxi for the railway station.  We have decided to take the train rather than plane between Stockholm and Göteborg (Gothenburg) so that we have a chance to see some of the countryside.  It seems to be quite a big deal to rent a car anywhere in Scandinavia if you want to return the car to a different destination from where you hired it.


Travelling to Göteborg  from Stockholm,we saw a few different kinds of landscapes. 
On our way from the east coast, we enjoy approximately 4 hours of lakes and forests, Swedish small towns and farmlands hastily completing harvesting and tilling before the colder weather sets in.  

We watch the weather close in, pass through a few showers and gloomily watch the dropping temperature.  As we get closer, however, the wind is pushing the clouds quickly past and by the time our journey is over, the rain has cleared.


We pass by a bison farm - yes, bison!  Between Skövde and Göteborg we pass by Bisonfarmen i Gate.  This farm in West Gotaland, (Sweden) has a herd of American bison imported from the U.S. in 2004. Today there are about 125 animals in the herd. They can be seen on guided tours with tractor and prairie wagon. The Farm is located near the Forest of Hökensås. Bison Farm at Gate has 138 acres of pasture divided into seven enclosures. The animals are moved from enclosure to enclosure to meet the needs of new grass. In the wintertime, the animals are fed with hay. At the farm breeding and meat production are the main activities.



Approaching Gothenburg, we pass the two lakes Aspen and Mjörn. They are much larger with lots of small boats anchored around their shores – and are very close to the train tracks!

We also pass a Volvo factory!


Donna reckons that the carpet is a sign that we are in the right place.  The room is certainly rather luxe.  Very nice. Toochilly to go out in the night air, but we will head out nice and early tomorrow to the Haga area - one of the oldest neighbourhoods in Göteborg.

Up, up and away . . . away . . . vroom vroom

It was a day of travel.
We left Kirkenes this morning just as it began to rain.
The Taxi Cab office was in the same building as the hotel and we had been told to just knock on the door when we needed to go to the Airport. There were about 6 drivers all in out of the weather in a smoke filled room. They decided that the youngest driver was the one to take us and told him so.
So we loaded our bags into a fairly new Mercedes station-wagon - we only travel in style. The driver made small talk, found an English music station on the radio (Tina Tina a la 70s) and was rewarded when we left the balance of our NOK with him. He had quoted us 350 NOK, the meter said 305 NOK and he said just to pay 300 NOK. Smile on the dial when he

realised that we gave him 550 NOK and told him that we were leaving Norway. Sometimes it pays to be at the bottom of the ladder!

We arrived at the airport about 9 am so we could be well ahead of the Hurtigruten bus of people.
Doesn't really matter as we have allocated seats. Plane was full and we got on near to last so that people did n't need to be pushing past. Getting out to the plane was interesting in the rain. Like at Hervey Bay, you need to walk out to the plane and climb the stairs. People bunched up and hurried in small groups so that you did not have to wait to long in the (light) rain. It was however quite cool at about 8 degrees. We left a few minutes late and landed at Oslo late. Oslo is a balmy 26 degrees.

At Oslo we thankfully disembarked via the flybridge, and with about 30 minutes only to our next flight, had to hurry from one terminal to the other at the far end - as always!
Our flight from Oslo to Helsinki is leaving from one of the outer parks on the tarmac. We are cram into a bus and are taken to the planeside. Smaller plane, and they are not allowing bigger hand luggage to be carried on - instead, they are stowed under the plane - a few disgruntled people, but honestly, some of them take 'hand luggage' to the extreme. They do not police it half as rigorously as they do at home.

The steps up into this plane are very steep and we wait until the last to get on so that Donna can give me a 'bottom' nudge to help!
This plane is a 2+2 combination so we can sit together without feeling pressured to let others off in a hurry. There are a number of people hanging back to get off so I take the opportunity to go. Trouble was, those stairs were worse going down with the rails not starting until the very edge of the first step.

Helsinki airport is spread out. Again, it is warm when we land 24 degrees (at 5 pm). It takes a bit to find the hire car desks, but when we do Giulia is very helpful and efficient and we are on our way over to find our car about 15 minutes later.
We are driving an Opel Astra stationwagon with 3842 kms only on the clock. Nice to drive and very roomy.

And so we head northeast for Turku. It is 168.3 km and the speed varies from 50 kph in the city to 120 kph on the open motorway. We drove in to the street where our accommodation is right on 8 pm. Can't find the apartment anywhere and although we have phoned the owner who is meeting us with the key, we need to phone again and talk through instructions on where the unit is. Turns out that the street number relates to the block, not the building. Funny how a Lidl supermarket can be a placemarker :)

The apartment is a 3 bedroom, with tiny lounge and reasonable kitchenette (not that we intend using it!) and not one but two bathrooms. It also has a washing machine so we make use of that. There is no parking at the apartment, but street parking is free between 6 pm and 9 am and we found a spot about 100 metres away.

We are going through the bags in the morning and deciding what to donate via Riikka, and what to send home via post - we seriously need to shed some weight and get rid of all the useless winter clothes - hardly needed anything really.

Went for a quick drive to find somewhere to have dinner after a foot reconnaissance didn't come up with anything in the immediate area. End up at the Pinella Bar and Restaurant on the River Aura. Set menu of three courses:
Entree - Gravlax Tartar (1960) with whole grain mustard and dill oil
Main - Parilla Grilled Beef Steak (1940) beef fillet, Cafe de Paris butter and garlic potatoes
Dessert - Ice Cream Cake (1950) sponge cake, Frozen berry

coulis, chocolate icecream topped with torched marshmallow and minute flowers.

The city is filled with new University students tonight, out celebrating 'O' week.  Noisy, boisterous and all having fun.  Lots of groups ranging from 10 - 20 people. And we watch some people trying to manoeuvre a speedboat into a berth on the river without any lights. 

Back at the apartment now tired as! Time for bed.

Bergen - 235 days of rain a year, and boy, did we get one!

Turns out that Bergen has the highest rainfall in all of Scandinavia.  And today proves that well and truly.  But I will have any one day of rain to appreciate the brilliant clear sunshine that follows - especially if that is tomorrow when we get to go to Geiranger and the Trollstingen Pass to Molde where we look down along the length of the fjords.

Today began again with a bit of a scare. Got up to go to the bathroom early and in returning to bed, walked along the mirror that is the length of the room and gave myself a fright when I passed the magnified section for makeup or shaving. OMG I am NOT an early morning person.  Note to self: avert your eyes when passing mirrors! 😂

Breakfast was included at the Best Western Hotell Hordaheimen, the first that has been so on this trip thus far. Breakfast was great - good selection of hot and cold, fruit and cheeses, meats and salads, cereals and yoghurts, eggs of all cooked varieties, bacon and sausages. We ate our fill before returning for our luggage which they held for us for the day. 

Then we set out on foot to go around to Bryggen, 900m around the front of the port and through the local 'farmers' markets. What do you think they farm around here?  Well, that would be fish, oysters, prawns, mussels, crabs; and berries - blueberries, strawberries, raspberries, boysenberries and cherries; and small-goods made from moose and deer and whale. That was the some total of the offerings at the markets, mind you there were many multiples of sellers in each category.  And one lone soft serve ice cream vendor at the very end.  As we (under our umbrellas)  walked past each of the sellers, they would have one of their staff dedicated to touting for business  mostly young girls. And they were very good at it! Marchiella caught our attention showing us the ENORMOUS Norwegian Oysters and the smaller and smoother Fjord oysters. And the trolls guarded the condiments!

Bergen was once the capital of Norway and it was ruled from the old part of the city - Byrggen. Bryggen has existed since just after the Viking Age of 1070 and as it stands now was constructed after the Great Fire of 1702. You cannot help but wonder at how it does burn to the ground far more often.  The last fire was in 1955. We heard sirens and saw a fire truck coming screaming along the road and the crowd collectively took in a breath!  Its ok, its none of the row of historic shop fronts that we duck in and out of to escape the rain.  In fact Donna is sure that it is those wet days that is what is protecting the timber from burning again!  

The front of the shops are wonky and nothing is really straight. While all lined up, they are very picturesque, up close you can see the strain reflected in different ways - a door that does not lineup with its lintel, a set of steps narrow and steep that go up on an angle, whole buildings that tiredly lean against each other as though to prop themselves up. A number of them are empty with historic displays in their windows and a few others are under renovation. The shops that front the quay in these shops are the big name tourist outlets and one or two woolen shops or adventure gear shops. We can only begin to guess what the rents must be like in a city that is very expensive. I did support the local commerce with the purchase of a Norway coastline cross-stitch kit.  Don't ask, it doesn't matter, I like it!


We had read up on Bryggen before we arrived here and know that there are a number of timber floored alleys and arcades and that towards the back of these are local artisans - we found jewellers, woollen goods sellers, artists, leatherworkers, christmas decoration shops etc.  I have been waiting to get here to buy a new cardigan to replace the one I left on the plane, accidently.  We found ourselves in Susan Fosse's shop where I found just the thing. Again don't ask, I'm not telling!!

The boards are damp underfoot and I am terrified of slipping.  After seeing two other people do just that, I am happy to leave these little timbered gems for the cobbled streets outside.  The rain turns quite heavy for a while and we, along with a whole lot of other tourists, take shelter in doorways and under awnings. For a little while we even hanker down into a wall, protected from the worst by our umbrellas.

Finally the rain lets up enough for us to walk back to the taxi rank and get a cab back to the hotel where we stayed last night about 1:30 pm.
We can go down to the terminal - it opened at 13:00, but cannot book our luggage in until 15:30. The hotel is warm and dry, and we can get a glass of wine and some nuts to while away the time. Donna ventures out to see whether we can walk around to the Terminal with our luggage, but reports that it is located in the next port around the headland and up and over a large hill.  Settles that, we will cab it.

The hotel concierge brings our luggage from the luggage room and orders us a taxi, telling us that the fare we should pay is 153 NOK.  Glad he did that because when we got in to the taxi, the driver asked how we would be paying (I always pay card as there is a record and less likelihood of the meter not being turned on) at which point he tells us the fare will be 240 NOK. We disagree, and so he says well 160 NOK, but we stick to our guns and invite him to go and check with the hotel concierge. At this point he becomes rude and sullen but agrees to the fare. I can only think how many tourists he has ripped off.  Will let the hotel know as we took the cab number.

And so finally we find ourselves at the Hurtigruten Ship Terminal.  We only booked this in July, but it feel like a lifetime ago.  Check in is done and we head upstairs to the cafe to wait boarding which is running an hour late. Console ourselves with a hot chocolate and a waffle while we watch the rain come and go. Come 5 pm when the crew open boarding, there is an almighty rush - as though to get the best seats!  Hang on, we all have allocated cabins, so what is the rush.

Finally we are on board. Safety briefing done and dusted. Cabin located - quite spacious even if not a suite with a WINDOW that does not open on to a deck so we can have an uninterrupted view from here.  We decide to wait a little while before heading up for dinner and let the panicked hordes go first. Just as well we did, there was still a line up at 8:30 pm. From here on in, we are allocated seatings, so it should be ok.
Dinner for all and sundry tonight is a buffet. Cold meats and fishes, hot dishes, salads, cheeses and crackers with fruit spreads, and desserts. We skip the hot dishes so we can have a little of the rest.  The reindeer meat with lingonberries was 'interesting'. Beefy, but not, gamey, but not. Something in between the two. will be good to try it hot for a comparison!  


We set sail right on 21:30 and pass out through the port areas, hugging the coast for a little while before we head out in to the open water of the Atlantic Ocean at the lighthouse.  OMG the ship is rocking and rolling  aghhhhhhhhh and the rain is slamming in to the window.  Hopefully it will just rock us to sleep.  Guess that I am about to find out.  Time for bed - nite all.

Flights of the imagination - the only ones taken today

Today we had a flight over the Franz Josef and Fox Glaciers with views up to Mt Cook booked for Michael (and I was even seriously considering climbing into a small plane) and so we had travelled to Fairlie to the closest accommodation we could get to the the airport at Tepako.  

Rain came in overnight and this morning there was 8/8 cloud cover (I'll explain in my geography sessions back home 😀) and our phone call to the Air Safari's company confirmed just what I thought would be the answer - no flying this morning, there is a slight chance for a flight this afternoon, but as we need to return the car by 3 pm, we decline the offer to wait and see.

So we partially re-trace our steps and head for Christchurch.  But it is not all bad news - as this will give Michael time to 'properly' visit the Air Force Museum of New Zealand on the city outskirts.  I'll let him tell you all about it . . . 

New Zealander's certainly possess the moxy to develop page-turning and interactive museums, and the Air Force Museum of New Zealand is no exception. This museum is an aviation enthusiasts delight.

As with many of the museums which Maria and I have visited, such as the Mercedes-Benz Museum in Stuttgart, this Air Force Museum presents a chronological journey into the history of military aviation of New Zealand but highlights the human element.

One enters the museum via the main foyer (Wigram Hall) where suspended from the ceiling is a 1909 Bleriot XI monoplane, De Havilland DH.82 Tiger Moth and De Havilland DH.100 Vampire. To the left is the cafe, and a display hall with three presentation aircraft: A25 Airspeed Oxford, AESL Airtourer and Aermacchi MB-399. 

We have breakfast at the cafe 
before the scheduled 11 am free museum tour begins. Maria reneges on the tour.

The tour is conducted by Richard, who is one the many volunteers who power the Museum. An ex-RNZAF and retired Commercial Pilot, Richard imparts his knowledge together with an animated presentation as though he was a little boy showing you his collection of model aircraft. Included in the tour is a visit to the reserve 'hanger' where restorations and general maintenance is carried out on aircraft for eventual display. Some of the aircraft receiving attention include a Bristol Airfreighter, PBY Catalina and V1 "Kirschkern" Flying Bomb.

After the tour it was time to explore this museum. 

As I navigated the museum and its displays, I perceived that an element of humanity has been added. Whether you were looking at an aeroplane, medal group or uniform you were being introduced to the person relative to the exhibit - this is a 'living' foundation. The main exhibition hall displays various aeroplanes and far too many to mention here. I could have spent far more time at the museum, but time was at a premium today. So, should you visit New Zealand ensure that the Air Force Museum of New Zealand is on your list.

Genevieve hit the nail on the head with her comment on Messenger to Michael:

"I can hear your ooo's and ahhh's.  I can hear you muttering to yourself while you soil your pants with excitement and let's not forget the best, Yelling at Mum with outrageous excitement because a PLANE DID SOMETHING!!"

We leave the museum right on 2 pm, make a quick stop at a nearby Discount Outlet Mall to buy another backpack (for the souvenirs) and fill the car with fuel delivering it back to Apex Car Hire at 2:45 pm.  The young attendant gave us a lift into our accommodation at the Ramada Hotel and Suites, needing advice from his co-worker to get him around the many roadworks here as he has recently arrived from Invercargill.

As we book in, we are handed some important paperwork to be completed tonight please - ah yes, New Zealand's National Census is tonight - we have heard it advertised quite a bit over the past two weeks.

Pizza in the unit from a local pizzeria for dinner tonight and I am going to hit the sack now - at 9:10 pm.  Looking forward to a lo-o-ong night's sleep.  I'm knackered after the last two weeks of constant driving!

One last day and a half in Christchurch coming up.  Too bad it is still raining, as it was when we arrived here a fortnight ago.  And to top things off, we flew in on a cyclone and now another is forming out in the Pacific - jeez.

An unexpected link to Maryborough

Again we sleep longer than we originally planned - one of the perks of being on holidays and in a fab bed!  We had planned to get up at 7:30 am, but Michael has set the alarm for 8:30 - ha ha ha - he never was a morning person!

A quick goodbye to Scooter just after 9:30 sees us head in to spend the morning giving Arrowtown some serious attention.  Scooter is originally from Europe and even she comments on the cost of living here. She and Grant have a small cottage that they are busily renovating and remodelling. Today she says it is valued at $1.4 million. And it is small - two bedrooms only. The airbnb room that we occupied is in a new built in area under the house.

Dating back to the mid 1800s, its main street is filled with the small original stores that graced it in its heydays when gold was being mined.  All of them re-purposed now of course. But still quaint and very twee.


We're off to 'Provisions of Arrowtown' a purveyor of all things local and foodie for breakfast.  Michael orders the big breakfast (of course), while I choose the Buckwheat Pancakes with grilled banana, blueberries and marscapone. And coffees of course. Those pancakes were as light as clouds and Michael's 3 eggs were poached to perfection. We are sitting in a back room, overlooking a Quince tree laden with growing fruits.


Once sated, we amble up the main street, stopping in at most of the shops. Some are surprisingly affordable, others not so - some of the merchants are really trying to make the most out of the many Chinese visiting the area.  And then we pause outside the local Sotheby's office (sure that gives you a hint!).  This property was the cheapest in their window! 

There are gold, jewellery, clothing, woollen goods, souvenirs, artworks shop that are interspersed with lots of eateries all doing a roaring trade.  The really noticeable thing here is that everyone from the young ladies in the Visitor Information Centre, to the sales staff in the shops and the wait staff all treat their visitors with open willing friendliness, whether you are buying or browsing. It is really noticeable and contributes to a wonderful warm feeling all through town. And because everyone is so friendly, all the visitors and smiling. And spending!!  If only we could bottle it and shake it all over home.

Arrowtown had its birth in the 1860s when the push to mine gold from the Arrow River was at its peak.  The original buildings in the main street have continued to evolve into the retail and service offerings of today.  And just like in Australia, where there was gold, came the Chinese.  The first orientals in the area didn't assimilate and created their own little village in the back streets towards the river and much to the annoyance of the European traders, the Chinese even set up their own shops.

Once the gold mining stopped being commercial, the town faded into the backdrop, meaning that there are still more than 70 historic sites remaining. In the 1950s there was a resurgence of interest in the area as a holiday destination. It is less than an hour to the summer friendly Lake Wanaka and even closer to the winter ski fields.

We were lucky to be wandering around today as the local farmers market was on in the local park. Cheeses, salmon, cured meats, fresh fruits, baked goodies - a foodies heaven. But we were also unlucky. We were putting some purchases in the car when I put the keys down to move a bottle of water. Promptly shut the boot and the car automatically locked. With the keys still inside.  A bad design flaw in the Ford Focus if you ask me. An hour later and $160 poorer, the local AA man has us back in the car.


And now to the link with Maryborough.  Sister (now Saint) Mary McKillop came to Arrowtown 20 years after she had set up the first catholic school in Maryborough, where she also set up a school for the local children.  Funny the things that link us across the waters, isn't it.

And locally, Irene S and Ann C both asked whether the lolly shop still exists.  We can happily report that yes it does, and it is still doing a roaring trade of old favourites and new offerings.

It is now early afternoon and we hit the road to head for Queenstown - about 25 minutes away.  And while the day was a cool summer day in Arrowtown, as we get closer to Queenstown, the weather also is closing in with lots of clouds again rolling down the mountainsides.  Donna had said that one of the must does here is the Gondola to the top of Bob's Peak.  St Frances is with us again as we get a car park about 100 m from the entry as another can pulls out.  The rain is beginning as we leave the car.  We manage to get into our gondola and up the mountain in just very light rain, so get one reasonable photo on our way up the VERTICAL mountain.  But by the time we peak out at the top, the rain has set in. 

We sit with coffees and wonder at the sanity of people who race the luges in the rain, but even more so, to the mountain bike riders who pay up to $900 for an annual pass to ride the gondolas up just to plunge down the mountain side - the very steep mountain side - even in the rain, and as we are told later, even in the snow!

We hang around for an hour or so hoping for clearer weather, but it is not to be, so we head back to ground zero thinking we might catch a movie - but can't find the cinema, so we head for Mossburn for the night.  A couple of reasons we chose here - it is on the road to Te Anua and Milford Sound, and it happened to have a vacancy - many places are still fully booked. The entire drive along what must be stunning scenery with towering hills and deep gorges along the length of Lake Wakatipu. Today however, through the veil of water they are merely shadows and outlines.  Not fair.

And finally I am gobsmacked at the large number of sheep (and cattle) that they farm per hectare here. Without a word of a lie, there were about 1,000 sheep on a 3 - 4 hectare block.  The rain isn't worrying them, what with their greasy wool coats.  The cattle on the other hand huddle in tight lines at the most protected parts of their paddocks - hides are not so waterproof!

We pull in to the carpark at the Mossburn Railway Hotel to check in and have dinner just before 7pm.  The rain continues and the temperature has plummeted.  The hotel is dry and warm with a roaring fire going. Drinks and dinner ordered and done, we head across the road to their new accommodation units - Wheels and Reels. 
My crumbed Blue Cod was delicious and Michael loved his Fisherman's Basket complete with mussels and scallops!

There is or was another link with home here - up until the 1970s there was a combined rail and road bridge over the Oreti River - very similar (although not as high) as our Dickabram Bridge!

Tomorrow promises to be clear and warm and we are hoping to do a day cruise to  Doubtful Sound - quieter and less crowded than Milford Sound.