“What we interested in, however, were the sexy little cakes behind the counter…”
We woke up early to pack up the camp, if we had thought about it before, we probably would have started the day before when we had some free time. Martin and I were looking forward to sending home all of our souvenirs (and quite a few clothes and bits that wouldn’t be needed in South America). Much like our packing for leaving for this trip in the first place, we left it to the last minute. We couldn’t quite believe how much there was to send home, between the two of us we filled half a suitcase! All this extra baggage we had been lugging around the world for the last 3 months was finally getting sent home, where it belongs.
We were due to go and visit the town at the foot of Mount Cook for this morning’s activity. We took way too long getting packed and having breakfast, however, and we decided that it would be best to just get on the road. We had four hours of driving ahead of us as it was, the trip would add 2 hours of driving and leave minimal time to enjoy our day. This way, we were free to stop off of as often as we liked and take our time driving towards our final destination. We didn’t know where this was at this point, Martin and I were going to be heading up into Arthur’s Pass and the others to Christchurch, but we didn’t know where we would be parting ways.
After an hour of driving, we were all feeling parched. We started to look out for a café or pub to pull over and spend some time in. We eventually settled on a café attached to a museum in a delightful little one-street town. The museum was $10 entry, and none of us were feeling particularly interested in vintage farming equipment, so we decided not to go in. What we interested in, however, were the sexy little cakes behind the counter, and big steaming cups of coffee. We put in our orders and headed outside to enjoy the sunshine.
Coffees drunk and cakes scoffed, it was time to get on the road again. This time we knew where we were headed, a town called Geraldine. It seemed like the perfect location to part ways. The place was big enough to have a place where seven could sit and eat and small enough that we wouldn’t have to battle traffic to get to the centre of pay extortionate parking fees when we got there. Plus, it only left us with an hour or so of driving left after we had gone our separate ways.
We pulled up to the side of the road in Geraldine and wandered towards the middle of town. Little market stalls were selling handmade arts and crafts, there were also some hitchhikers on the side of the road. There was no denying it, this town was “as cute as a button”. We found a very hipster looking farm shop, they served freshly made food for lunch but also had a high number of canned and jarred goods; jams, conserves, sauces and even cordials. The problem with this is that we spent so long sampling all the delicious treats that by the time we were finished, the queue for lunch was out the door. Slightly dejected, we set off in search of an alternative.
We happened upon a cute little pub with a great pub garden and sent in our orders. The next hour was spent eating and drinking and recapping on what an excellent adventure the previous three weeks had been.
It finally came to the time to say goodbye. It was quite an emotional moment, but we managed to lighten the mood with a couple of rousing rounds of Happy Birthday for mum and Martin. We enjoyed the last hugs and climbed into our vans to go our separate ways. We then quickly jumped back out again, chucked the walkie talkie through the open window of the big van. Satisfied that all necessary gadgets had been distributed from our Hugo back to the returning family, we set off for Arthur’s pass. Five minutes later came to a junction. We turned left, and they turned right.
