Driving into Invercargill, NZ's most southerly city, last Friday (21 Feb) I was thinking about Nikki having to cope with the aftermath of her father's sudden and unexplained death and about the plight of the little penguin at Curio Bay. The rain suited my mood.
We chose a camp site in the centre of the city; it wasn't a picturesque location but the facilities were amongst the best we'd come across and the site was within walking distance of the city's i-site (information centre).
The woman at the centre was very efficient at arranging everything to do with our trip to Stewart Island, including the ferry crossing on the way out, the flight to bring us back and accommodation for one night. We had asked for simple accommodation; she found us a cottage at which there was a car for us to use.
Later, as the rain had stopped, we explored the city, which sprawls across a flat, coastal plain, admiring the elegant Victorian water tower and visiting Henry, a tuatara (a species of reptile that has survived since the age of the dinosaurs ) believed to be 100 years old, and his friends, at the museum.
Then, as it was Friday, we decided to stick with tradition and go for an Indian meal.
By the end of the day I was looking forward to seeing Stewart Island.
But during the night the wind got up....
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