Now, as an obvious punishment for doubting the filming choices of Sir Jackson, the heavens opened up again. I road straight past Mount Taranaki (Egmont) without even catching a glimpse of it. Wellington wasn’t much better, so a ferry to the sunny South Island seemed like the best choice.
As we entered the fjords leading to Picton it seemed that I had made a good choice.
However the power of Jackson was not to be denied! The next 3 days saw me stuck in town as torrential rain pummeled the area and lead to a state of emergency in the next town over, Nelson. It also lead to a most pleasant interlude as the staff and patrons of a local pub took me in and did there best to help me make the best of a rather wet situation. Beyond their amazingly friendly hospitality, they got a reporter for the regional newspaper to come by and do and interview with me, leading to a flattering story in the paper (Bermuda readers will get a kick out of the reporters last name- and I think it might be a cool story to explore the connections between the New Zealand and Bermuda branches of the name). This was then picked up in Bermuda by Bernews. I don’t seek out interviews or stories, but on the odd occasion when they fall in my lap, I have to admit that they’re good fun- and a good reminder that what I’m experiencing isn’t normal and needs to be taken full advantage of.