Bloody Peter Jackson

It's a real shame that Peter Jackson set his bloody movie here, beacause a few lazy references to old man Tolkien would really come in handy in describing this part of NZ.

We are deep in what I like to call "tourist NZ". Other than our mates at Queenstown, we haven't spoken to a kiwi in about a week. The big blocks of ice (Franz Josef and Fox glaciers) were a bit underwhelming, but out along the road to Milford Sound the countryside has redeemed itself.

The sound itself was very pretty and I'm glad I did the boat thing, but it's been the camps next to these unbelievably clear streams that roar and tumble over strewn rocks and the walks though moss covered beech forests that have been of greatest delight to me. It was like taking a walk through middle earth.... DAMN, it's just too easy to slip.

The weather here has been coolish without being freezing, but I'm still giving the parts of my wardrobe that only see June and July a good workout. It will be interesting how I treat the rest of the year. Normally at the end of feburary I'm a bit over the heat, especially if I'm doing a bit of training. But now the thought of wandering round the house in a pair of footy shorts is pretty appealling. I think I'll treat hot days in march with joy rather than come on winter annoyance.

I reckon I'll be back to this part of the world or it's Australian cousin Tasmania to do a bit of fishing, the rivers are just too pretty, even for Tolkien to describe.

Lantanaland from the iPhone

Lesbian weed