With my scuba training done, I was finally able to put Queenstown behind me on the 2nd of February. The only direction to go from there was south or east and up the east coast, so I decided to stop in Invercargill for a day before heading up the east coast in the last leg of my trip on the South Island. Without the help of Lance this time, I walked on the main road out of Queenstown, practicing walking backwards with 20kg of gear with the thumb out until a kiwi on his way out of town on a service call stopped to take me as far as he could. Happy to be moving, I didn’t consider that he was taking me out of the slow speed limits of the town. Dropped off on the side of the highway 5km out of town, I suddenly realised my error as cars whizzed by at 100km/hr. Hitchhiking is a skill only so far as picking the right spot. Sure, a hitchhiker must present a clean and welcoming image to potential drivers (which I manage by usually wearing a collared shirt and khaki pants), but the right spot is key. A driver already travelling at 100km/hr doesn’t want to stop, either because it is dangerous, inconvenient, or a waste of gas. The ideal spot is therefore within town limits just before the speed limit increases. New Zealand is perfect for this because unlike North American or European highways, New Zealand highways usually become a town’s main street before resuming high speed limits on the other side of town. Other considerations include a good place for the car to stop where a wide shoulder helps; being visible for as long as possible before being passed as blind corners are no good where the driver only sees the hitchhiker for a few seconds before passing; and not being within sight of the next speed sign because cars have a tendency to start accelerating before actually reaching the 100km/hr sign and are loathe to stop when accelerating. I waited only 10 minutes before deciding to hike back towards town, but as I was picking up my bag a car came to a stop a bit down the road. I jogged the distance with my bag and was surprised to see a middle aged lady stopped who was going all the way to Invercargill and could take me the whole distance as well! She later explained that her husband was having problems with kidney stones and was taken to the Invercargill hospital for diagnostic imaging, but had to go by ambulance. She was advised to pack him some stuff and go down on her own. She was happy for the company, and as she told me stories the whole way down, it became clear she may have burst from nervousness if she didn’t have someone to vent to. I was happy to listen, and frankly was glad I didn’t have to go over all the same stories every driver wants to hear.
Dropped off in Invercargill, I found my way to Sparky’s Hostel, which I had booked previously. Sparky’s is run by (as one might have guessed) Sparky who is a former Kiwi-Rail employee and remains fascinated with trains, happily sharing his passion with his guests. His hostel is clean, has personal touches (Sparky is also a fan of Sesame Street, need I say more?), and is a great place to meet people and hang out. After getting settled, I headed off for the town centre to get acquainted with Invercargill. Hmmmmm, now I just have to find town centre... Invercargill is the kind of city (the southernmost in the world) where you are never sure exactly where city centre actually is. Sprawling and flat, like most New Zealand cities (except Wellington and Auckland), the urban sprawl is interrupted only by Queens Park, an equally sprawling oasis of nature in the middle of urbanopolis. I headed for there and happily shed my flip-flops to wander the park bare foot. The park is probably the best part of Invercargill, and as if the city recognises this, the park is maintained spectacularly. Contained within the boundaries is a diverse aviary with native New Zealand species
as well as other Australasian and a few African specimens. After enjoying the walk-in bird enclosure, I headed to the animal park, essentially a small and free zoo also in Queens Park. Here, introduced species live in large fenced in enclosures, but New Zealand species would be hard to contain considering the only land mammal native to New Zealand is a species of bat, and apparently fences don’t bother them too much... New Zealand is however, crawling with introduced species, each having their own effect on the ecosystem. Some, like the stoat and possum, wreak havoc on native species such as the Kiwi and other native birds by eating their eggs and young and are deemed a destructive pest. Others like the rabbit and deer are more an annoyance as they munch the same grass required by 
farmers for their sheep. Rabbits were recently decimated in numbers by intentional but illegal introduction of myxomatosis into the population by a pissed off farmer, and deer are actively hunted by helicopter to keep their numbers down. Needless to say, if you like rabbit or deer hunting, New Zealand is the place to come. As far as I know, you don’t even need a license to hunt either species, only permission from DOC (Department of Conservation) to hunt in a certain area to avoid hunting accidents. Other species such as the hedgehog are looked on more kindly and generally receive a warm welcome for their generally un-destructive cuteness, although a desperate hedgehog can also harm ground nesting bird populations. I enjoyed supper at a generic Thai restaurant before heading back to the hostel to plan the next bit of my trip. I had not considered what I was going to do after Queenstown, but still with little in the way of time constraint, I was free to take the east coast at the same leisurely pace I had been taking so far. I picked hot spots I wished to visit, but made no deadlines and booked nothing time restrictive.
as well as other Australasian and a few African specimens. After enjoying the walk-in bird enclosure, I headed to the animal park, essentially a small and free zoo also in Queens Park. Here, introduced species live in large fenced in enclosures, but New Zealand species would be hard to contain considering the only land mammal native to New Zealand is a species of bat, and apparently fences don’t bother them too much... New Zealand is however, crawling with introduced species, each having their own effect on the ecosystem. Some, like the stoat and possum, wreak havoc on native species such as the Kiwi and other native birds by eating their eggs and young and are deemed a destructive pest. Others like the rabbit and deer are more an annoyance as they munch the same grass required by 
farmers for their sheep. Rabbits were recently decimated in numbers by intentional but illegal introduction of myxomatosis into the population by a pissed off farmer, and deer are actively hunted by helicopter to keep their numbers down. Needless to say, if you like rabbit or deer hunting, New Zealand is the place to come. As far as I know, you don’t even need a license to hunt either species, only permission from DOC (Department of Conservation) to hunt in a certain area to avoid hunting accidents. Other species such as the hedgehog are looked on more kindly and generally receive a warm welcome for their generally un-destructive cuteness, although a desperate hedgehog can also harm ground nesting bird populations. I enjoyed supper at a generic Thai restaurant before heading back to the hostel to plan the next bit of my trip. I had not considered what I was going to do after Queenstown, but still with little in the way of time constraint, I was free to take the east coast at the same leisurely pace I had been taking so far. I picked hot spots I wished to visit, but made no deadlines and booked nothing time restrictive.On the 3rd, I walked along the main road out of town with my thumb out, eventually getting a ride with a Maori man who gave me a quick lesson in the history of the local Maori, getting quite passionate in his lecture and completely missing my stop. Good spiritedly he turned around and returned to the main highway out of town before continuing on his journey. Here I stood for the next hour, contentedly listening to my music while nervously hoping someone would stop. I was thumbing in the direction of the Catlins, the Southern point of the New Zealand and a tourist hotbed. Sporting such attractions as the Petrified Forest, and the ever – if not over – photographed Purakaunui Falls, it is a haven of natural beauty and harbouring a distinct kind of flora from the rest of New Zealand as it lies on the cooler southern coast. Eventually an older van stopped and I hopped in, meeting the twenty something Swiss guy driving. He was working as a chef in Auckland for the past 8 months and was taking a couple months to see the rest of the country before heading home. He was doing the touristy thing in the Catlins, and that suited me just fine. We skipped some of the other sights in the south western Catlins, heading straight for Cathedral Caves, a sight which must be seen at low tide. When we arrived, perfectly on time, I paid his $5 to cross the privately owned land over which one must traverse to reach the famous rock formations. These sea caves have
been carved out over thousands of years of wave action and have resulted in the caves visible today, with ceilings up to 30m high. Unfortunately I left my flashlight in the car as the rear of the caves can get quite dark, but we made do with the flashes on our cameras to explore as far as we could into the back of the caves before hiking back up the steep hill to the car park. My driver dropped me off in Papatowai where I intended to do an overnight self guided hike into the bush. Catlins Ecotours, the company that runs this as well as other guided and unguided tours has a bus halfway along their track in the middle of the woods which has been converted into dorm accommodations (I have no idea how it got there). I had booked my spot on the bus the day before, but arriving in Papatowai, no trace of the company was to be found. I got local directions to their base of operations, but discovered it to be accommodation of some sorts and completely deserted, and with no instructions for anyone who may have booked a tour. I weighed my options, waiting for someone to show up, or continuing on, and decided to carry on. I discovered that this part of New Zealand is much like home, in fact
as I stepped onto the beach at the Cathedral Caves, I thought that I could literally be anywhere on the Nova Scotia coast. Does this make the Catlins unworthy of a visit? Certainly not, as even a Nova Scotian will be impressed with the rugged coastline and impressive caves; but for someone limited on time, the Catlins can be seen in a day. I returned to the village centre and once again stuck out the thumb. I waited only 30 minutes before a mid twenties English gal stopped and invited me to hop in. She was going as far as Dunedin, the next city on the trail and my new next destination. She was touring New Zealand and looking for some inspiration for her future career (hopefully) as a singer songwriter. We did the touristy thing on the way through the Catlins and again, that was A-OK with me. Our first stop was some waterfalls, taking in the dramatic sights, the aromatic forest, and enjoying the plentiful sunlight. Next we hit the Purakaunui Falls, the most photographed waterfalls in New Zealand before continuing on to Cannibal Bay, once 
again on the sea coast. While I thought Cannibal Bay was named for the rock formation that looks like a human face, someone discovered human remains that looked...nibbled on... a while ago and named it for the supposed past inhabitants. From here we continued on to Dunedin where she dropped me off at a holiday park before continuing on to her friend’s house where she was staying. My parents told me of their trip to New Zealand some 35 years ago when they would hitchhike, meet someone, and often receive an invitation back to their house to pitch a tent in their yard, or in the rare case even sleep on a spare bed. I have not once been
offered such an opportunity. Maybe I throw off the wrong vibes, but people don’t seem to mind having me in their car so I have to assume that because of the fearful times we live in, people are no longer willing to extend such hospitality. It’s disappointing as I would relish in the opportunity to get to know locals and other tourists better, but at least it isn’t devastating as cheap accommodation is available everywhere I look and hitchhiking alone is providing a terrific opportunity to meet locals and tourists alike. I checked into the Dunedin Holiday Park and was surprised at the $21/night fee, especially considering their not exactly central location in the city, but was assured that as holiday parks went, it was the average in Dunedin. I probably would have been better off checking into one of the central hostels, but as always, I know that my tent is clean and private, the facilities at holiday parks tend to be good, and I at least saved a few dollars. I got a cheap fried supper at the camp store before settling in for a night of reading up on Dunedin and the surrounding area. What was I going to do the next day? Same thing I do every day, try to take over the...oh wait...wrong show. Never mind.
been carved out over thousands of years of wave action and have resulted in the caves visible today, with ceilings up to 30m high. Unfortunately I left my flashlight in the car as the rear of the caves can get quite dark, but we made do with the flashes on our cameras to explore as far as we could into the back of the caves before hiking back up the steep hill to the car park. My driver dropped me off in Papatowai where I intended to do an overnight self guided hike into the bush. Catlins Ecotours, the company that runs this as well as other guided and unguided tours has a bus halfway along their track in the middle of the woods which has been converted into dorm accommodations (I have no idea how it got there). I had booked my spot on the bus the day before, but arriving in Papatowai, no trace of the company was to be found. I got local directions to their base of operations, but discovered it to be accommodation of some sorts and completely deserted, and with no instructions for anyone who may have booked a tour. I weighed my options, waiting for someone to show up, or continuing on, and decided to carry on. I discovered that this part of New Zealand is much like home, in fact
as I stepped onto the beach at the Cathedral Caves, I thought that I could literally be anywhere on the Nova Scotia coast. Does this make the Catlins unworthy of a visit? Certainly not, as even a Nova Scotian will be impressed with the rugged coastline and impressive caves; but for someone limited on time, the Catlins can be seen in a day. I returned to the village centre and once again stuck out the thumb. I waited only 30 minutes before a mid twenties English gal stopped and invited me to hop in. She was going as far as Dunedin, the next city on the trail and my new next destination. She was touring New Zealand and looking for some inspiration for her future career (hopefully) as a singer songwriter. We did the touristy thing on the way through the Catlins and again, that was A-OK with me. Our first stop was some waterfalls, taking in the dramatic sights, the aromatic forest, and enjoying the plentiful sunlight. Next we hit the Purakaunui Falls, the most photographed waterfalls in New Zealand before continuing on to Cannibal Bay, once 
again on the sea coast. While I thought Cannibal Bay was named for the rock formation that looks like a human face, someone discovered human remains that looked...nibbled on... a while ago and named it for the supposed past inhabitants. From here we continued on to Dunedin where she dropped me off at a holiday park before continuing on to her friend’s house where she was staying. My parents told me of their trip to New Zealand some 35 years ago when they would hitchhike, meet someone, and often receive an invitation back to their house to pitch a tent in their yard, or in the rare case even sleep on a spare bed. I have not once been
offered such an opportunity. Maybe I throw off the wrong vibes, but people don’t seem to mind having me in their car so I have to assume that because of the fearful times we live in, people are no longer willing to extend such hospitality. It’s disappointing as I would relish in the opportunity to get to know locals and other tourists better, but at least it isn’t devastating as cheap accommodation is available everywhere I look and hitchhiking alone is providing a terrific opportunity to meet locals and tourists alike. I checked into the Dunedin Holiday Park and was surprised at the $21/night fee, especially considering their not exactly central location in the city, but was assured that as holiday parks went, it was the average in Dunedin. I probably would have been better off checking into one of the central hostels, but as always, I know that my tent is clean and private, the facilities at holiday parks tend to be good, and I at least saved a few dollars. I got a cheap fried supper at the camp store before settling in for a night of reading up on Dunedin and the surrounding area. What was I going to do the next day? Same thing I do every day, try to take over the...oh wait...wrong show. Never mind.
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