A smooth journey to the Ferry Terminal at 07 30 after I’d called for a second taxi! I’m not sure what happened to the one that Dean ordered … at least this driver knew the way. I’m slowly getting used to taxi drivers who expect passengers to know how to get to their destination and to explaining that I’m a visitor and one reason I’m in their taxi is that I don’t know the route. Blessings on all UK taxi drivers who have the knowledge.
Now the gentle swell of departure is replaced by steady rocking, white tips bob in and out of my deck edge view and the sky patchwork is more grey than white.
The ocean mouth stretches between the edges of the Islands -jaws of inhospitable looking land masses open out to the Marlborough Sounds, small islands jut like molars from the sea and there are more long white clouds. Suddenly the sun fragments the cloud: blue patches overshadow the clouds –I’m going out on deck with my camera (again) …
We’re slipping down the frond of land that spreads across the north east corner of the South Island. Between fingers of isolation, webbed by golden beaches with habitation here and there. I’m intrigued by the lives of those that choose these places to lie their heads.
Soon we’re in a capsule of wet, the decks clear and they announce that hot scones are available in the cafe. Maybe I’ll need my waterproofs today –so far they’ve only served as wrapping for some breakables in my luggage,
Its nearly time to disembark, collect my luggage and find the hire car. I’ve been told I don’t really need a map to get from Picton to Nelson –just turn right, there’s only one road, is the advice of the girl in the i-spot. I watch Picton get closer and closer. I have no memory of when I was last here, or of the journey we must have taken to Golden Bay but my onward route will surely be very similar.