I spent my last couple of days "in" Nelson, which is alleged to house the biggest art community in New Zealand. I didn't get to test that, though, because I stayed about 40 minutes away, closer to a town called Motueka. And I was actually a ten minute drive from that town as well.
The Wairepo House--probably the most eccentric place I stayed--housed me for three nights. Run by a husband and wife (X and Richard) who also manage a fairly sizable apple-picking operation, the house is large and twisted, with multiple additions being tacked onto the original structure over the past 40 or so years. It's a country home, not contemporary in any way, with what I'd probably call a rustic charm (if you find rustic houses charming). On the first night, my room had a little balcony overlooking some of the gardens surrounding the house. There's a little pond, a mini hedge maze (only about knee height, so you'd have to be a toddler or small animal to get lost in it), and an oversized outdoor chess set. The second two nights, I stayed in a suite downstairs opening directly out onto the lawn. My only two complaints about the house itself was the mildew (plainly evident behind all of the mirrors in my bedroom and who knows where else) and the slow internet (which forced me to seek out a web cafe when I needed to get some work done).
X is a fast talking woman, able to spit out a sentence in no time flat. Her husband Richard seemed a fairly straightforward individual with a good appreciation of the simple pleasures in life. Each were lovely hosts, and they took time to chat despite being so busy.
For my final New Zealand adventure, I embarked upon a sea kayaking trip in the Abel Tasman sea, which was quite a bit of fun. I just brought a waterproof disposable film camera, so I'll need to wait for that to get processed before I see if I took any worthwhile pictures (I'll tell you right now that I did not). We kayaked in and out of bays along the coast before stopping for lunch along a sandy beach where I opted to go for a swim. The water was quite cold but not terrible, and I got to experience the pull of the New Zealand tides firsthand.
Boy, does New Zealand have tides! In many places, the water will rise and fall around 15 feet between low and high tides. Miles upon countless square miles will become bone dry at low tide, only to have water rush forth in a frothing torrent as the tide moves inland. Islands accessible by foot become inaccessible moments later, and the entire landscape seems to shift around you. It's really quite something to behold.
To return to where we started our kayaking journey, we sailed with the Tasman Sea's easterly afternoon wind. But we weren't in a sailboat. There were eight of us in total, each in a double kayak, plus one more kayak for our guide. We "rafted" together by grasping tightly onto one another's kayaks. A sail was tied to two paddles, and the bottom of the sail was held onto via rope by one person in the front left and one person in the front right. I got stuck with the toughest job, because I was the only one responsible for hanging onto the sail and a kayak on each side. I still have the mark on my hand from where the rope was pulling against my skin. Our sail worked perfectly, though, and we were back in no time at all.
After an hour walk to where the boat would pick us up, I met up with some "old friends" on the beach--some interesting folks I ran into earlier in the trip and happened across again that day (they recognized me, of course, since you all know I do not look at other people whilst walking around). All in all, it was a really nice day, though definitely not the most photogenic.